


Rightfully Ascended To The Throne

by HoneyBeeez



Series: False Prince AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Cuddles, Dancing, Figuring Things Out, First Kiss, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, The False Prince AU, a mention of a dead animal (its a rat so its not that bad), also yahaba cant stand his shit, amnesia (?? is that what its called??), denial of feelings because mad dog doesnt wanna admit to anything, iwaizumi... is a little gossiper... and is good at reading people. apparently, kyoutani is a stubborn little prick.... who admires iwa a lot, oikawa has good intentions. i swear. he just has a weird way of going about it, rated for kyoutani's mouth. he really doesnt have a filter...., somehow defining love even though i have no idea how?? that sounds like a good tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6400000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyBeeez/pseuds/HoneyBeeez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mad Dog can't remember the life he lived before he showed up at the orphanage, and honestly, a part of him told him he didn't want to remember. All of that changed when some pompous noble walked into the orphanage, paid for him, and dragging him all the way to his castle. Mad Dog was wary, and rightfully so, finding himself in the middle of a plan he couldn't influence or escape. Surrounded by people he either hated or feared, he finds himself and the reason why the prince's name sounds so familiar. </p><p>~Or, The False Prince AU I am trashy enough to write!~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> So, if you haven't heard of The False Prince, you really should read it! It's great! (SPOILERS: basically three orphans are trained to be the next prince of a kingdom to avoid chaos, when the boy chosen to be prince is actually the prince they were trying to impersonate!) I altered the plot a little bit, so it makes a little more sense and so it can stand independent from the book, so I hope you enjoy!

“ _Let… me… go!_ ”

“With pleasure,” a cool voice said, and the grip on my arms vanished, dumping me onto the polished floor, something that intimidated me and made me want to dirty it. I glared at the smooth marble underneath me, before shifting my gaze up to my captor. “Now, now, Mad Dog, that’s no way to look at your savior,” the source of the voice said. Every inch of him screamed ‘ _regal_ ’, to the way his chocolate hair elegantly swooped out of his face, to his overly-expensive clothes, to the way his eyes looked, half-lidded, as he stared down at me.

I hated him.

“You’re not my savior,” I spat, kicking my leg out and hoping to hit his shin, but he was quicker. He got out of range and clicked his tongue at my disobedience, shaking his head with disdain.

“Oh, quite the contrary, I believe I am,” he said, his voice losing its cool demeanor and taking on an icy sort of tone. He leaned down, grabbed my collar, and hauled me to my feet as if I was nothing. “Need I remind you, I was the one that bought you from that squalor that was considered an orphanage, and you’ll do as I tell you as long as I see necessary.” He let go of me, pushing me a little and making me stumble a couple steps backwards.

“I didn’t ask for you to buy me, so it was a waste of your time,” I remarked, my lips curling into a snarl. My hands twitched at my sides, eager to do something, to get ahold of something sharp and force my way out. But the way he laughed at me snapped me out of all thought of fleeing; the sound was malicious, almost mocking me, and I knew he wouldn’t let me leave that easily.

“You’d never be a waste to me, Mad Dog,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest in a self-assured manner. “I’ll get you to bend to my every whim, and then you’ll be on bended knee, thanking me for changing your miserable life.” I wanted to snap at him, say something back, but he already had his back to me, clearly not interested in what I had to say. “Iwaizumi, accompany Yahaba in escorting Mad Dog here to his room. I believe he might be… troublesome,” he said resolutely, before floating gracefully out of my sight. _Damn noble_.

“This way, please,” a voice said, stepping in front of me. He was taller than I was, with lighter hair than that high-and-mighty noble. He carried the same attitude, although his eyes were downcast and his shoulders slumped, almost in defeat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I growled, shrinking away from him, trying to back myself far enough away to make my escape. I bumped into something a lot quicker than I thought I would have. Instinct had me spinning around, hands at the ready in defense, but my mind had me running.

Hard dark eyes, unkempt dark hair, unimpressed expression, broad shoulders, and a sword hilt jutting out from his hip, I knew that if I tried anything with this one I would be in trouble. I’d seen his strength on the way over to this over-expensive playhouse, when he took on five men who stormed our camp and won. I was tied up then, after attempting to escape several times, but the display served its purpose; I was in awe of this man, and I was in no position to challenge him.

“You’re to do as you’re told,” he said, his voice surprisingly softer than I would expect it to be when addressed towards me. I huffed, and fixed him a half-hearted glare as I turned back towards the other one. He was still looking at the floor, but when I nodded at him, he looked up slightly and started walking away.

“Right this way,” he said lowly. I had no choice but to follow him, because the man was behind him, watching my every move, and if I tried to run, I would be in pieces.

The castle set me on edge. Pristine marble floors, ancient-looking brick-lined walls, delicate tapestries hanging here and there, doors immaculate and doorknobs shining, every bit of the place made me want to rip it to pieces. I tried to not pay attention to my surroundings and focused on following the servant in front of me blindly; if he bought me to I could serve him for the rest of my life, I’m going to be the most useless servant he ever wasted money on. I could assure that.

I was shocked back into reality when I nearly crashed into the servant when he stopped at an ornate-looking door that was more decorated than the others we passed, but just slightly; the doorknob had an interesting pattern carved into it, and the door itself looked lighter in color. The servant fished for a set of keys, and unlocked the door before opening it widely.

“Your room, sir,” the servant said, gesturing for me to enter. I scowled.

“What the hell is this?” I questioned, not bothering to look at the room behind the door.

“Oikawa wants him cleaned up and dressed for dinner at the earliest convenience,” the man said, ignoring my confused gaze and staring directly at the servant, who met his eyes brazenly and nodded.

“I’ll see to it,” he said faithfully.

“You’ll see to nothing! I’m not getting cleaned up! What’s the fucking point?” I growled, rounding on the servant before a strong hand gripped my shoulder, turned me around, and pushed me up against the brick wall.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “you’re to do as you’re told. Let Yahaba do his job and let him escort you to the dining hall. If you so much as give him a wrong glance, I will have him report it to me and I will personally make you pay for disobeying Oikawa’s wishes. Am I clear?”

“Fucking _crystal_ ,” I muttered, ignoring the stuttering beat of my heart. He was scary as it was, but up close and personal, he was terrifying.

“And stop cursing. Oikawa’ll have it beat out of you, and I’d rather not bruise you more than you already are,” he remarked finally before letting me go and pushing me in the servant’s direction. “Yahaba, he’s yours.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi,” he said gratefully, bowing slightly before turning his attention to me once more. “Right this way, please,” he repeated, his voice sugary, and I wanted to punch him more than I wanted to punch the cool guy, what was his name? Oikawa?

With a glance backwards at the man, Iwaizumi, I’m assuming, I trudged into the room and let the servant close the door behind us.

The room was huge and unexpected; sure, the door was ornate, but the sheer size of the room was unbelievable. I could fit the whole of my orphanage in this one room and everyone would be more comfortable than they are now. And yet, there was only one bed in a room lined with tall windows, with dressers and closets galore and an adjoining bathroom. I clicked my tongue, wondering why I was in a place like this in the first place.

Apparently, the servant read my expression.

“This will be your bedroom, or as I’m told, anyway,” He said. He sighed as he took a step closer to me and reached for the hem of my tunic. I flinched away from him, retreating at least two steps away from him and his nosy fingers.

“What the fuck? Stay away from me!” I spat, curling in on myself, my hands in fists in front of my chest.

“I was instructed to make sure you’re bathed,” the servant said coolly, giving me an unimpressed look. I hated him, too; even though he was a servant, he was acting just like Oikawa, and he was in no position to do so.

“I can wash up on my own, I’m not _invalid_ ,” I spat, glaring at him before moving towards the adjoining bathroom. I kept my distance from him in case he tried anything else.

The bathroom was just as ornate as the room itself, bathtub big enough to serve as a swimming pool, tall mirrors covering one wall, and a sink with polished faucet. I was almost afraid to enter, but the small satisfaction of knowing that I would be the one to ruin it with my filth made it worthwhile.

“Why the fuck do I have to bathe, anyway?” I said, looking over my shoulder and eyeing the servant. “I’m just going to end up in the kitchens or something worse, so what does it matter that I’m dirty?”

“Sending you to the kitchens is not Oikawa’s…. never mind,” the servant said, cutting himself off before he finished his sentence. Somehow, that piqued my interest. He entered the bathroom, pushing past me in the doorway and got the tap running.

If I wasn’t going into the kitchens, then why was I here? What other reason did Oikawa have for buying me and bringing me here? If I wasn’t going to the kitchens, then this room wasn’t a mistake either. The servant must have been serious about this being my room. But why? What is he trying to achieve? I should have tried to run more, should have darted as soon as I could. Even if I couldn’t escape, death would be better than being caught in whatever devilish plan was brewing here-

“Am I allowed to undress you now, or are you still pretending to be independent?” the servant asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. I barely realized that the sound of the tap was absent.

“I’m not _pretending_ to be independent, _I am_ ,” I said, making so that I could pull my tunic off in one fluid motion. Before I did so, I froze. “Get out. I don’t need you watching me like some kind of perverted asshole.”

“I can’t allow that,” he said, a heavy sigh foregoing his words. “Besides, there is no appeal in watching you bathe, if that eases your nervousness,” he added, a wry smile twisting on his lips as he says so.

I huffed at him, and tugged off my tunic without hesitation in retaliation. His words didn’t sting, but he was snarky for a servant. I walked over to the tub, and hung my tunic at the edge of it, careful to not get it wet, before shucking off my pants and hanging them similarly. I shot an accusing glance over my shoulder, where I could feel his eyes on me, and was met with a disinterested raised eyebrow.

Sinking into the bathwater was like tasting a little bit of heaven in hell. The water burned, but the sensation was bliss; I forgot when the last time I was submerged in water like this. Baths were rare at the orphanage, and swimming was even rarer, unless you wanted to die in the dirty river out in the forest. I sunk lower, letting my head be submerged for a little more than a second, and when I came up again, the servant was whisking away my clothes.

“ _Hey!_ ” I said, standing up quickly and thanking the gods that I didn’t slip. “I need those!”

“They need to be burned,” he quipped, wrinkling his nose at them despite the fact that he was clutching them to his chest.

“If you burn them, I’m leaving!” I declared, glaring at him now and hoping he caught that I was serious.

“Leave over clothes that aren’t fit to be worn within a fifty-yard radius of this castle? You really are daft,” he sighed.

“You’re mouthy for a servant,” I remarked. “I wonder if I could get you removed if I reported you to Oikawa.”

“Good luck with that.” He laughed humorlessly as he said it. “I’ll have them washed and returned to you, as you request, but I’ll have you know that if Oikawa or Iwaizumi see you in these rags, they’ll send you back to change and then _really_ have them burned.”

He left the bathroom after that, and I sank back down into the water. Was everyone in this place annoying, demanding, or controlling in one way or another? Because, if that was the case, I’ll be finding my way out of here tonight and setting as much distance between me and this place by morning. There was something about the whole situation that was so… _wrong_. Why me? Why all of this? Why these people? Why this extravagant room and extravagant bathroom in an extravagant castle I was obviously unfit to be in? There were too many questions, too many variables, and I had too little time to think of a solution. It was a good thing I was alone now-

The servant came walking back in, a fluffy white towel and a second bundle tucked underneath his arm. He set his load on the sink, and turned to me.

“Do you even know _how_ to bathe?” he remarked, folding his arms across his chest, much like Oikawa. _Make the similarities stop_.

“What’s your name?” I asked him. That brought him up short, his eyes going wide and looking at the floor.

“Yahaba.”

“Do you even know how to leave someone the fuck alone, Yahaba?” I asked him, mimicking the tone he used with me. He scoffed, picking up a rag, dabbing some soap onto it, and kneeling next to the bathtub.

“This is my job,” he hissed, grabbing my arm and starting to scrub. The amount of dirt that was washed off by that first swipe was embarrassing.

“I said I could take care of myself!” I said, moving away from him.

“Obviously not,” he said, continuing his task undisturbed.

A very awkward half hour passed, where Yahaba cleaned me until I was spotless from head to toe. I told him most of it was unnecessary, but he didn’t bother to listen to a word I said. When he finally let me out of the tub, the water looked more like mud and my skin was practically glowing pink. He let me towel myself off, thankfully, although it was mostly because I snatched the towel out of his hands and batted him away every time he attempted to dry me off.

When I was dry, I dressed in the new outfit that Yahaba brought me. The material was stiff, stuffy, even, and complicated. Sure, it looked good on nobles and all that crap, but it didn’t belong on someone like me. In the end, Yahaba had to manhandle me into the clothes so I was wearing them correctly. There was something… _odd_ about the way his hands roamed over my outfit, looking for any minor imperfections that would displease Oikawa. His touch was light, and barely noticeable, but the intensity in his gaze made me look away.

_Well, that was new._

“There’s nothing we can really do about your hair,” he muttered, frowning as he did so.

“Are we done here?” I huffed, crossing my arms over his chest. He smacked my hands down, scowling at me.

“You’ll wrinkle them!” he scolded lightly, before remembering himself and sighing. “Sorry. Yes, we are done here. Now, Oikawa waits for you in the dining hall.”

It sounded so… obnoxious when he put it like that. I rolled my eyes at him, not planning on going to the stupid dining hall, wherever that was, when I opened the door. One step out of the door and I found myself bumping into something solid once again.

“What they say is true. Orphans _do_ clean up well,” Iwaizumi remarked, looking me up and down before smiling. It… wasn’t unnerving, but it wasn’t good either, so I took an uncertain step back. His gaze shifted off me, instead focusing on something behind me. “Did he cause you any trouble, Yahaba?” he asked, a friendly lit to his voice as he smirked at the servant.

“Oh, no, none at all,” Yahaba replied lightly, still behind me. I grit my teeth. “Shall we get going?” he asked, and Iwaizumi nodded once.

Yahaba led the way again, and Iwaizumi walked by my side this time, looking nonchalant as he glanced over at me a couple times. I would have growled if it was anyone else, but I knew not to press my luck. I trained my eyes on the floor again, making sure not to pay attention to the direction we were going.

“Oi,” Iwaizumi called, and I looked up at him. “Stand up straight,” he said, and it wasn’t a request. I took a deep breath, although forced, and straightened out my slouch while pushing my shoulders back. “Good. Now, you listen to what Oikawa says. If you don’t-”

“Is intimidation always a factor for you?” I barked, my fists clenching. I was tired of being threatened, tired of being pushed into a corner and forced to comply. The trip here was already enough, being tied up and hauled around like some kind of hostage. They really shouldn’t have gone through the trouble of buying me, because they couldn’t keep me tied up forever.

“Only when Oikawa’s involved. Now go,” he responded, unfazed, with a jerk of his head. When I looked, there were wooden double doors, just as ornate as the room’s door, right in front of me.

_The dining hall_ , I assumed. Oikawa was in there. I slumped my shoulders, clenched my jaw, and pushed the doors open unceremoniously.

“Wait-!” Yahaba screeched as I marched in, but I didn’t listen.

Oikawa was sitting at the head of a long table, with at least ten seats on each side, and he was smiling widely at me. I held back a growl.

“Ah, Mad Dog! What a pleasant surprise! You really do look handsome when you aren’t covered in dirt!” he said, and he sounded genuine, which made me hate him more. I stopped walking when I was at the other edge of the table, eyeing him. “Come, sit with me,” he beckoned, waving his hand and gesturing at a seat to his right. There were only two sets of plates set up, his and the ones at the seat next to him.

“Why aren’t they sitting with us?” I asked gruffly, jerking my thumb over my shoulder towards Iwaizumi and Yahaba, who were undoubtedly still standing at the doors to the dining hall. I was sure someone ground their teeth at my question. Oikawa chuckled at me.

“Oh, Mad Dog, you have a lot to learn,” he said, pretending to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. “They have dinner separately from us, it would be absurd to-”

“You mean to say that they’re servants and you don’t want them tainting your precious dining table with their presence, am I right?” I spat, crossing my arms over my chest in the same way Yahaba told me not to. Oikawa’s eye twitched at my remark. “If that’s the case, then, I’m not sitting down. I’m of a lower status than they ever will be; if they aren’t allowed at the table, neither am I.” My glare was sharp and pointing at Oikawa and Oikawa alone. A hand clamped onto my shoulder.

“That’s enough-” Iwaizumi was snarling in my ear, his grip on my shoulder strong enough to leave bruises.

“Oh, leave him, Iwa. He has a point,” he says, waving his hand once more, this time brushing off the situation. “For your sake, Mad Dog, Yahaba and Iwa will sit and dine with as. Now will you sit down?” He sounded resigned, so I nodded.

Sitting next to Oikawa was like being put in a pit of snakes, the unease coiling in your gut and the nagging fear in the back of your mind that wondered when the snakes were going to strike and kept you on the edge of your seat. Iwaizumi and Yahaba sat on his left, Yahaba glaring daggers at me all the while. I looked back at him nonchalantly. What was his problem, anyways? Doesn’t he hate it, being someone’s servant? If I were in his position, I would die to eat at the table, to get a taste of how the other life lives. Of course, I wasn’t in his position, and all I wanted to do was dart out of the hall and make my escape, but still.

Two more sets of plates were carried in, and when Oikawa waved his hand, the other servants left the hall and closed the doors behind them.

“You’re hungry, am I right, Mad Dog?” he asked pleasantly.

“Considering the fact that you fucking _starved_ me on the way here, hell yeah,” I said lowly, meeting his level gaze with an irritated one of my own.

“Tsk, Mad Dog. You may look cleaned up, but your mouth certainly doesn’t sound like it is.” he rebuked lightly. “A gentleman never lets his vulgarity reflect itself on his tongue.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” I responded.

“It means stop cursing, you imbecile!” Yahaba hissed from across the table, leaning over it with his palms pressed flat into the wood. His eyes were hard, and he looked irritated. I wished that Oikawa would look the same. Maybe if I piss him off, he’ll realize his mistake with me and let me run off.

“Yahaba, that is no way to talk to your future prince, now, is it?” Oikawa asked lightly, giving Yahaba a grin. The servant flinched, and straightened up.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“What?” I spat, rounding on Oikawa again. “What the hell are you talking about? Me? A prince? _Good fucking luck_ with that-!”

“Enough!” Iwaizumi snapped. He didn’t bang on the table, but the tone of his voice sounded like he could have. I stopped, and glared at Iwaizumi. I didn’t know if he had his sword with him, so I didn’t want to take my chances.

“My, my, you do have some spark in you. Kentarou was the same way,” he said, chuckling at my outburst. The name struck a chord in my mind, making my heart stop beating for a second and my breath come short.

“Kentaro?” I asked shakily. I clenched my fists. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Yes, the second son of King Shino Kyoutani, Kentarou. He was never intended to take the throne, but certain, mm… circumstances have changed that.” He waited for some sort of response from me, but I just stared at the design on my plate in front of me. “Kentarou was sent away to a boarding school when he was ten, seven years ago. Unfortunately, his carriage was ransacked, and everyone was slaughtered. Kentarou’s body was never found.” He took a steadying breath, and, surprisingly, his next words came out shakily. “And, as of recent events, the King, Queen, and Crowned Prince are dead. Without a blood relative to succeed the throne, our kingdom will be thrown into civil war. And that, that is where you come in.

“I’ve scoured the whole of this kingdom, looking for someone who resembled the late Prince Kentarou. If I could present them in such a way to the rest of the royal court, in a way that would convince them that he is Kentarou and ready to take the thrown, then this kingdom will be saved. And, thankfully, I found you,” Oikawa concluded, giving me a gentle smile. There was something more unnerving in that smile than in any other expression he had given me before. Something… genuine.

“I’m not being your fucking prince, no matter how much trouble it’ll save everyone else,” I growled, slouching in the ornate high-backed chair I was sitting in.

“I think you _will_ be my prince,” Oikawa said flippantly, surveying his nails in a prestigious way. “You have the attitude, the smarts… you even _look_ like late Prince Kentarou, albeit older, which is expected, seeing as though his death was years ago.” Oikawa seemed to catch himself rambling, before he centered himself once again and looked me in the eyes. “Look, Mad Dog. I know you don’t want to go back to that horrible orphanage, and I know that you don’t want to stay here with me down your throat forever. If you agree to this, you’ll be king, allowed to do whatever you want with this kingdom… and with me. If you see fit to have me executed, then so be it. But it cannot be if you do not accept this position.”

“You’re telling me that it’s okay to kill you after I become king? What kind of fucked up world do you live in?” I spat, my glare turning from murderous to shock in less than a second.

“I live in the Royals’ World, Mad Dog, the same world I will prepare you for during these next couple weeks. Although, that’s only if you accept,” Oikawa said, a smile on his face. I couldn’t decipher what that look was for, but it was unnerving. When wasn’t this guy up to something?

“What will happen if I refuse?” I asked. His smile grew.

“Yahaba will love to have you as his personal lackey,” he said, looking at the servant encouragingly. “He would be delighted to have you by his side day and night, and force you to do whatever he pleases, wouldn’t you?”

“It would bring me the greatest of pleasure,” Yahaba said, through grit teeth. He didn’t look like he liked that idea at all, and I knew it would have been torture for him as much as it would be torture for me. Tempting, but not much.

“I accept your offer,” I muttered, not looking at any of them as I agreed.

“Excellent! Your classes shall start tomorrow, but for now, let’s eat!” Oikawa cheered, raising his hand in the air and snapping his fingers grandly. The doors burst open, and servants laden with plates came in and served us.

There was so much food, it was surreal; the last time I had ate anything was in a dark alley before going back to the orphanage the day Oikawa bought me, and it was something I didn’t care to know what it was. The memory made me wince, and I nearly scarfed down whatever was put in front of me with one bite.

“Sit up straight! What are you, an animal?” Yahaba reprimanded across the table, and I glared at him with a mouthful of food in my mouth. I swallowed harshly, the food nearly burning the back of my throat.

“You’re hardly in a position to correct me,” I retorted, my voice gruff.

“Yahaba’s right, Mad Dog. Your posture really is awful,” Oikawa remarked with a pout. “And your table manners need to be brushed up on.”

The rest of the meal was filled with corrections, suggestions, and demands. “Sit up straight!” “Hold the fork as so.” “Do not _glare_ at your food!” “There is a napkin, for pity’s sake!” Every one made me more irritated than the last, and I started ignoring them until Iwaizumi enforced them with his hard voice and mild words. “Straighten your back.” “Like this, see?” “Relax a bit, will you.” “There’s nothing wrong with being clean.”

Oikawa grew exasperated at how I only listened to Iwaizumi, screeching every time I listened to him rather than Yahaba or him. But he misunderstood; it wasn’t only Iwaizumi’s approach that made me listen, it was him as a whole. Intimidation played a roll, but so did respect; how a man like him could put up being at a lower status than this pompous brat was beyond me, and I admired him for that.

After dinner was completed, Oikawa enlisted Yahaba to get me ready for bed. The servant nodded stiffly after Oikawa whispered something in his ear. He looked frustrated by the time Oikawa turned and walked out of the hall, Iwaizumi at his heels.

Yahaba scowled at me before leading the way out, and directing me back to the room. The walk was tense, and rightfully so. Yahaba was glaring as he walked, and I clenched my fists at my sides. Why him? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? He was almost as bad as Oikawa himself, and it was disgusting.

“I’ll have you know,” he spoke up as we reached the room, “that Iwaizumi and I are not merely servants at the hands of Oikawa.”

“Like hell you are,” I retorted. “He leaves you to take care of me, and he doesn’t let you guys sit at the table like proper fucking people. So please, tell me what you are to him!” I was almost shouting at the end of what I was saying, and I almost wanted to take it back. _Almost_. The irritation on Yahaba’s face was almost a promise of a fight, and I wasn’t going to back down. Maybe if I was aggressive, Oikawa will-

“Oikawa Tooru is like an uncle to me. I was also in an orphanage until it burned own. He found me on the streets and took me in. He raised me from then on, and I do what he tells me to out of gratitude, not out of servitude.” Yahaba explained, not overly-sentimental, but short enough in his description to let me know that he was serious. “And Iwaizumi… well…”

“Well, what?” I pressed.

“Get in and I’ll tell you,” he said, looking up and down the corridor before opening the door. After we both entered, he shut and locked the door, before moving towards the closet and opening it. He picked out two articles of clothing before setting them down gently on the bed.

“Well?”

“Iwazumi was his servant, ever since they were little. They were also lovers,” he admitted, his cheeks burning bright red. I couldn’t blame him; I guessed my cheeks were redder than his were. “When Oikawa succeeded as the head of house, he paid off the remainder of Iwaizumi’s debt to his family. They couldn’t get married, but Iwaizumi sticks around because of…”

“I get it,” I said roughly, waving a hand. Now I get why he tolerates him. I moved towards the bed, and eyed the clothes Yahaba picked out. The pajamas were simple, just a nightshirt and pants that looked comfortable enough. The cotton was a rich red with golden patterns embroidered on it. I sneered, not liking the idea of wearing something like that for _bed_.

I stripped anyways, tearing off the layers of clothing I was put into, but getting stuck at the buttoned shirt. Yahaba wordlessly stepped closer to me, eyes narrowed as he deftly worked the buttons. I hated the way it felt like his fingers lingered for a fraction of a second at the hem of my shirt before reaching up and tugging the material off my shoulders. He pulled the nightshirt on me with little resistance on my part, only because I knew I couldn’t do the buttons alone. His hands didn’t linger this time, instead grabbing for the pajama bottoms and handing them to me.

“I trust you can put these on by yourself?” he asked. I clicked my tongue at him, snatching the pajamas and slipping them on.

“Prick,” I growled.

“You better get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very tiring day for you, mentally and physically,” he said, leaning on the door to my room with a casual air to him.

“Just leave already,” I growled, sitting on the overly-comfortable bed with a huff. I felt out of place in that room, on that bed, with the lights dim and him leaning against the door like that. Something twisted in my gut, and I chalked it up to all the food I ate, protesting. It’s been a while since I ate until I was full.

“Sorry. I was ordered to stay and watch you. Just in case you get another idea to run.” He smirked at me, and I grumbled. I flopped onto the copious amounts of pillows on the bed, turned away from Yahaba and pulled the thinnest blanket there was on me. “Good night, Mad Dog,” Yahaba said sweetly.

“Fuck off.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's back with more of this!

Breakfast doesn’t start until I had a lesson in etiquette, apparently. When I opened the door and tried to flee from Yahaba’s pushy fingers (he was fussing over my clothes and hair so much, it got annoying), I nearly bumped into Oikawa. I took two steps back and eyed his overly-friendly smile warily. _What the fuck is this prick playing at?_

“Good morning, Mad Dog!” he said pleasantly, looking at me with an encouraging expression. I glared back at him, confused. Yahaba prodded me in the ribs, and jerked his head towards Oikawa.

“…Morning?” I replied, not sure what he wanted me to do, exactly. By the way Oikawa grinned, I figured I did something right.

“You _do_ have some manners! I knew I wouldn’t have to start from the ground up!” he said, cheerfully, and reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Now, come here! I don’t bite!”

“Anyone but Iwaizumi, that is,” I muttered under my breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear me. A soft smack to the back of my head told me otherwise.

“Such foul language!” Oikawa squawked, looking scandalized. “Speech like that is _not_ permitted to come from a prince’s mouth!”

“Good thing I’m not one, huh?” I grunted.

“Oh, but you are. You agreed, remember?” he asked me, ruffling my hair before I batted him off. “And, I take it, Yahaba’s been informing you of the inner-workings of my humble abode.” He looked at Yahaba with an indistinguishable expression, but Yahaba didn’t back down. He stood a little straighter, and mirrored the noble’s careful glance.

“I was just informing him of the fact that Iwaizumi and I are not your servants, and that he shouldn’t have treated the situation as such last night,” Yahaba replied smoothly. I couldn’t deny that the smooth response called for a shred of respect. But, at the same time, he’s spent a lifetime figuring out how to talk circles around Oikawa.

“Right you are!” Oikawa brightened. “That really was nasty of you, Mad Dog, assuming that I mistreated people whom I consider my family.” He pouted at me, before springing to action. “Now stand up straight!” he encouraged, pressing a palm to the small of my back. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“What the _fuck_?!” I yelled, backing away from him until my back hit the wall. “That wasn’t necessary!”

“Calm down, he’s only trying to help you,” Yahaba chastised lightly, guiding me away from the wall and back towards Oikawa with a hand on my shoulder.

“You seem to let Yahaba touch you just fine,” Oikawa noted, tilting his chin up and looking at the hand on my shoulder with slight disdain. I brushed it off immediately. _He had a point_.

“You scared the crap out of me, that’s all,” I muttered.

“Ah, but no matter! Yahaba, correct his posture, please!” he said, brushing the situation off. I cringed at the change in plans; I didn’t want Yahaba’s hands all over me more than I had to tolerate already, and yet, Oikawa makes it worse still.

With a terse nod, Yahaba circles me slowly. A pressure on my back, two hands pushing down on my shoulders, a shoe nudging at my ankles, all the while muttering things under his breath. “You really need to stop slouching… stop being so tense, we aren’t going to kill you or something… you stand like you’re ready for someone to tackle you at any second…”

I hated that I listened, that I straightened up, relaxed my shoulders, and shuffled my feet so they were shoulder-width apart. Oikawa seemed delighted.

“Perfect! Now stay still…” he instructed, turning around and picking something up. In the next second, he was positioning a silver platter on top of my head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” I muttered, not moving an inch as the platter balanced.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this! The way you hold yourself is sure to affect how the other regents see you, and if you slouch like a beggar, they won’t believe it!” Oikawa explained, almost frantically, before pointing down the hallway. “Now walk to the dining hall! We still have breakfast to attend!”

The walk to the dining hall was torture. The platter fell off about six times by the time I made it down the hallway, and that wasn’t even halfway there. Breakfast wasn’t too productive, either. Oikawa fussed over me, telling me how to sit and hold the utensils. Knuckles dug in the middle of my shoulder blades when I slouched, fingers slipped over mine and corrected me when I did something wrong.

I didn’t eat much, let’s just say that.

“You’ll catch on,” Oikawa muttered, the hopelessness saturating his voice as he sighed. “At dinner, I want to see how much you’ve improved, so keep all this in the back of your mind.” I rolled my eyes at him as he turned away. “Yahaba, take him to Iwa. He should be out by the stables.”

“Right,” Yahaba said, nodding.

I was led outside, and the moment I was out of those castle walls, my fingers twitched. I could do it. I could run, just break away from Yahaba and get the hell out of here. Sure, there’s more guards, but since Iwaizumi is where we’re heading, he’ll be farther away. I might actually be able to do this. I never wanted to be here, never wanted to agree. I’ve never wanted to be royalty, and I would probably be a shit royal, anyways, so what’s the harm in running?

I slowly exhaled, then inhaled once more. I glanced to my side, where the grounds were clear and covered in grass. There was no fence around the castle, only a dense thicket of forest ringing around the perimeter. I could do it, just run in, hide, and get away. I could be back at the orphanage by the end of the week, telling them that Oikawa tried to kill me and that’s why I escap-

“How good are you with a sword?” Yahaba asked, destroying my thought process and making me blink at him confusedly.

“What?” I asked dumbly.

“ _I said_ , how good are you with a sword? Iwaizumi’s going to be teaching you the basics of sword fighting, after all. Knowing even a little bit would help him teach you,” Yahaba said, and he stopped walking when he saw the still-baffled expression on my face. “What’s wrong with you? I just asked a simple question.”

“I think I’ve handled a sword once or twice,” I mumbled, staring at the ground. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, there was an image of a huge marble wall, laden with swords of all shapes and sizes. A phantom feeling bloomed in my palm, one of a leather-wrapped hilt and an unbalanced weight. I clenched my fist, willing the feeling away.

I’ve never held a sword in my life, and yet thinking about it felt so familiar.

“Hey,” Yahaba said, catching my attention once more. “If you give Iwaizumi as hard as a time you gave Oikawa this morning, I’ll talk Oikawa into dropping the agreement and making you my lackey, instead. They’re just trying to help, and if you give them shit for it, I’ll never forgive you.” He sounded serious, his voice low and a tiny scowl on his face. It didn’t fit him, but then again, that’s what made it even more intimidating.

“I’d never dream of giving Iwaizumi a hard time, so fuck off,” I stated, squaring my shoulders and meeting his hard look with one of my own. He huffed before turning on his heel and leading me towards the stables once more.

* * *

I fell on my ass again with a grunt, my borrowed wooden sword already in the dirt a couple feet away from me. I spat on the ground next to me, and I could barely see the flecks of red as it blended into the soil.

“Prince Kentarou mastered the art of sword fighting when he was nine. You need to be at his level or higher by the time we present you to the regents. Again!” Iwaizumi barked, sticking his hand practically right under my nose. I flinched back an inch, before taking it. He hauled me to my feet like I was nothing.

I eyed him warily as I retrieved my wooden sword. I shifted back into the stance he showed me earlier. It wasn’t too different from the one I’ve adopted, only this time my feet were only slightly wider than shoulder-width, for stability, and both hands held the hilt of my sword in front of me. I raised my eyes to Iwaizumi, who was in the same stance, and we both nodded before looking over at Yahaba.

“Start!” he yelled.

Iwaizumi lunged forward, his sword already up in a swing that could take my head of, were this a real fight. Out of reflex, I jerked my sword upwards, meeting his on its descent. The wooden _CLACK!_ that followed hurt my ears, and the force behind his swing made my shoulder ache. I pushed his sword away from mine, and batted at it once before shuffling away from him.

Iwaizumi had an intensity in his eyes while he held a sword, steel or wood, that could make even the strongest man cower.

After a couple more blows, all initiated by Iwaizumi, my arms were aching and my grip on the sword was loose. With a final swing, and a twist of his wrist, Iwaizumi sent my sword flying once more. I looked at it fall in awe, before something hooked behind my ankle, jerked, and had me landing on my ass. Again.

“You’re letting your guard down. That’ll get you killed,” Iwaizumi noted, his voice gruff. He wasn’t even tired, wasn’t sweating like I was. This was child’s play to him, and that somehow fueled me. I was clambering to my feet in a second. “You need to fight back and actually try hitting me for once.”

“You’ll get hurt,” I said, looking at him and pinching my mouth shut. Yahaba actually started laughing in the background. I shot him a glare.

“Even if you go all-out, I doubt you would hurt me. Grab your sword,” he ordered.

Grabbing my sword and shifting back into the stance, I looked back up at Iwaizumi.

“Start!”

I knocked his sword to the side as soon as the word slipped through Yahaba’s lips. He side-stepped out of my way, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before narrowing once more in concentration.

The fight grew more intense as the seconds waned on, Iwaizumi’s hits coming stronger and harder than before. My arm was almost numb from the shock of each hit, but I kept at it. He said that I wasn’t going to hurt him, he said I needed to get better, and holding back and giving up easily wasn’t going to get me there.

Plus, his narrow eyes and the amount of concentration he had on the fight proved to me that he was taking me seriously. That was all I really needed.

I tried going for his ankle like he did to me, but his stance was too sturdy. The trick left my feet too far apart, and Iwaizumi moved before I could correct myself. He brought his sword in a wide arc, aiming towards my neck. Unbalanced, I acted on instinct; I used the foot behind Iwaizumi’s as an anchor, and swerved out of the way of his sword. I rolled and got up onto my feet smoothly, standing behind Iwaizumi. I grinned as a brought my sword around and touched the tip of it to Iwaizumi’s back.

Iwaizumi slowly turned his head and looked at me over his shoulder. He caught sight of my grin, and one split across his face too. He stepped away from me, and I let my sword fall to the ground as he faced me.

“Tricks upon tricks,” he chuckled, shaking his head at me. “You really could be Kentarou’s replacement. He fought the same way. You’re dismissed. Yahaba!”

“Yes!”

“Get him cleaned up for his classes.”

“Got it,” he said, nodding as he led the way back into the castle. It was silent most of the way there, until Yahaba opened his mouth. “I’m impressed,” he said simply, side-eyeing me as he did so.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen Iwaizumi come close to losing before,” Yahaba explained, his voice level, “and the moment you actually start being serious about it, you bested him.” I blinked at him, unsure of what to say. I didn’t beat him because I was better, it was because I used what I knew when I fought him, and it was something he wasn’t expecting. That wasn’t the case at all. “I’m giving you a compliment,” Yahaba reiterated, his voice sounding bland at the lack of my response.

“I don’t need it,” I said, brushing him off. “There’s nothing to compliment, anyways. I cheated.”

“There’s no way to cheat in sword fighting, unless you use something other than a sword,” Yahaba declares, looking at me with hard eyes. “You fought well, Mad Dog. Accept it.”

“I’ll accept it when hell freezes over,” I mumbled. I didn’t need his approval, so why was he giving it to me?

“Well, you sure are stubborn enough to be royalty,” Yahaba muttered as we got to the room. I followed him in, and tugged the snow-white tunic off my back. I was just thankful I wasn’t wearing those stuffy clothes I was in yesterday for sword fighting, but as Yahaba carefully looked at the closets, I knew I would be shoved back in them soon.

* * *

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” Yahaba inquired, leaning over the table that separated us. I stopped tugging at my collar and looked at him.

“No, not really,” I replied honestly, running a hand through my hair and sighing at him.

“Can you at least try? This is kind of important!”

“It’s history. There’s nothing important about a whole bunch of dead guys,” I mumbled, propping my head against my hand.

“You already agreed that you’ll be prince, so these ‘dead guys’ will help a lot when you’re deciding what to do with our kingdom!” Yahaba said, smacking the table with his palms. “Honestly, you might as well make an effort to listen, at least!”

“Fine, fine, just shut up already…” I muttered, sitting up a little straighter. I didn’t really want to learn this stuff, I mean, it was pointless. I was just going to be a figure-head for the kingdom, just something that’ll calm everyone down. Decision making usually was done by other people, right? Like, those other nobles Oikawa keeps saying I need to impress. It has nothing to do with me.

Yahaba started reading from the huge book in front of him again, his voice draining into the background as I thought back to the duel with Iwaizumi earlier. Sword fighting should have been new to me, I should have sucked. I’ve never held a sword in my life, I had no chance of getting my hand on a sword while I was at the orphanage. But I held the wooden sword like I owned it, like I grew up with a weapon at my side. Fighting felt natural, too. Thinking quickly, predicting the opponent’s next movement, dodging a hit, they were all things I was good at- no, all things I _needed_ to be good at; enough fist fights broke out in darkened alleyways over scraps of food for anyone to know that much.

“ _Mad Dog_!”

“I was listening!” I barked, giving him a glare for breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah? And what was the last thing I said?” Yahaba tested, leaning over again and raising his eyebrows at me. He was so much like Oikawa, it was irritating.

“Forget about learning anything about history and appoint you as my head advisor the moment I become king,” I said listlessly, giving him a look of my own. Yahaba clicked his tongue at me, and leaned back.

“I never said that,” he said after a second.

“But you’re not objecting, are you?” I asked, smirking.

“You’ll have to be very convincing in order for me to ever kneel to you, that’s for sure,” he snorted, turning the page of his book.

“Oh, trust me, I will be.”

* * *

I didn’t get to eat anything else until dinner, which was after Oikawa tested me to see how much I could read and write.

“I’m surprised, Mad Dog,” he said, gathering up the material once more and smiling down at me. “I wasn’t so sure how much they valued education at that orphanage of yours.”

“They didn’t,” I replied shortly, baffled at myself. Everything he passed me was readable, and when he told me write something, I didn’t make one spelling error, despite the fact that my handwriting looked like chicken shit. He gave me a weird glance, before brushing it off.

“Ah, well, less work for you. All we need to do is get your handwriting to a suitable font.” It was almost as if he was talking to himself before he grabbing my arm, pulled me up, and slung an arm around my shoulders. “Come, you deserve something to eat!”

Dinner, as I thought it would be, was another test of etiquette, but this time I passed with flying colors. I sat up straight and ate slowly, no matter how much I wanted to hunch over my plate and scarf down every bit of food in front of me. Yahaba gave me a glance from across the table, and I could have sworn the expression behind his eyes was shock.

“So, Mad Dog,” Oikawa said conversationally, his voice airy in a way that made me tense. “I heard you are quite the prodigy when it comes to swordsmanship,” he proceeds to say, the small smile quirking at the corners of his lips making me scowl down at my food.

“I’m _not_ a prodigy,” I mumbled, poking at the couple of crumbs left on the plate.

“Well, you have good instincts,” Iwaizumi chipped in, and his words made me look up. “I can teach you strategy and other tactics as much as I want to, but I can’t teach you how to react, how to think, during battle. And you have that naturally, so don’t look at us with that kind of expression.”

I nodded once, and wiped the shock off my face. Coming from Oikawa, the statement seemed insincere, almost like he was just saying it to break the silence in the dining hall. But coming from Iwaizumi, it felt real, it felt like I could actually be proud of what happened.

“I hope you realize what an opportunity I have given you here, now,” Oikawa said lightly, setting his utensils down and leaning over slightly to get a better look at me. “You have talent, potential, things you wouldn’t have realized unless you came here. In the next weeks, we’ll hone them, together, and realize that what you have shouldn’t be wasted. You’ll make a good prince, Mad Dog.” The sincerity in his voice made me uncomfortable, and before I knew it, I was on my feet, my chair scraping against the marble floor obnoxiously.

“Like hell I will. I’m going back to the room,” I spat, turning and heading out of the hall.

“Language, Mad Dog,” Oikawa chastised lightly. “Yahaba escort him there, and then report to my chambers, okay? I have to discuss something with you.”

I stopped listening by the time I slipped out of the double doors. As much as I fucking hated it, the castle was simple, and I found myself walking toward the room absentmindedly. I was a long second of silence before I heard the double doors creak open and rushed footsteps.

“What the hell is your problem?” Yahaba asked when he finally caught up to me. His eyes were hard and his mouth was pressed into a scowl. “They were only complimenting you-”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the dog my name says I am. I don’t need someone’s stupid-ass compliments,” I dismissed, looking away from him. I couldn’t take his glare any more than a couple seconds; not that he was scary, because he probably couldn’t scare a couple of starving kittens, but because his face wasn’t meant for the expression he wore. It looked _wrong_ on his face, and I kind of wanted to stop him from looking like that, but the most I could do is probably punch him for it.

“They’re right, you know,” he finally spoke up again as I reached for the intricate doorknob. I froze, and stared down at my shoes. “You’ll be a good prince, you have it in you. But you’re so stubborn that it makes you more of a jerk than anything else.” His voice was saturated with honesty, and I tried to think of something to say to combat him. I couldn’t. “Stay in your room. I’ll be back when Oikawa’s done talking to me,” he said, before turning on his heel and walking back down the hall.

I wrenched the door open, and slammed it behind me.

I couldn’t think, didn’t want to think. Not too long ago, I was sleeping on the floor of the orphanage, surrounded by dozens of kids just like me. Now, I was in this castle, alone, with only three people telling me that they basically believed in me. I knew which one was more overwhelming, and I wanted it to end.

The room was stuffy, the clothes were choking me, and I staggered towards the bed as I wrestled off the stiff, regal-looking clothing. I looked down at my shirt once I got it off; it was made for someone better, for the _real_ prince, not an imposter like me. No matter how much they said that I would be good if I tried, it wouldn’t make a difference. I would be a fake for the rest of my life.

I looked around the rest of the room, and surprisingly found my old tunic and pants tucked in the back corner of one of the largest closets. They weren’t as dirty now, a dingy tan rather than a dark brown, but they felt like home when I tugged them back on. I felt like I could breathe.

Speaking of breath, I looked questioningly at the tall windows that overlooked part of the grounds behind the castle. I fumbled around with the latches until there was a small _click!_ and I was able to open it. I sat at the windowsill, my legs dangling out of the castle, and I smiled.

Looking around, I noticed the bricks that made up the exterior castle walls were slightly jutting out. I grinned, because that meant only one thing: footholds.

I maneuvered myself off the windowsill carefully, sliding down and turning myself towards the wall so that I could hang off the windowsill and find footing in the brick spaces. After the shaky start, it was easy to climb around the perimeter of the castle. Some windows were covered with curtains, the others wide open, but I didn’t care about them all that much; I wasn’t trying to be a pervert, I just wanted to do something that I knew Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Yahaba wouldn’t approve of.

Climbing around the outside of the castle _definitely_ wasn’t something they would like.

I pulled myself higher, aiming for a ledge that was jutting out from underneath a window about two floors above the room I was staying in. Every once in a while, one of my feet would slip or I would miss a handhold, and a laugh bubbled out of my mouth. There was nothing as fun as almost dying while doing something you aren’t supposed to.

(It was a nervous habit, one that reared its head when I was in trouble or when fear was coursing through my veins. I’ve laughed at my own misfortunes as long as I could remember.)

Getting onto the ledge was easier than I thought it would be, and I pushed myself up on into it with ease. I sat on the edge of it like I did my windowsill, my legs dangling off the side. I kicked them slightly as I looked at the sky change colors.

* * *

The first time I saw a sunset, it was when I was waking up in the middle of a dense wood. My body ached, I didn’t know where I was; I was scared, confused, and there was a dryness in my throat that demanded water. I looked up, saw the colors, and thought that everything was going to be okay.

That was probably the first and last time that the thought crossed my mind and I believed it.

I stumbled my way through the woods for the duration of the night, jumping at every sound I heard in the dark, flinching at every twig my feet broke under my weight. It was terrifying, because I was all alone.

Funny, how my first memories from as far back as I can remember were of fear.

My first sunrise was relief, as the color returned in the sky and light illuminated my path. I eventually found a town, _my_ town, and stood on the outskirts of it until a kind old woman took interest in me.

“Oh, you poor thing!” I can still hear her cooing in my ears. “You look absolutely exhausted! Those rings under your eyes make you look like a raccoon!”

She tucked me under her arm and led me into the town. She dropped me off at an orphanage, _my_ orphanage, where the keeper looked down at me with disdain.

“Feral, this’un,” he spat, grabbing at my hair and tilting my head back forcefully. “Yorra mess. Who raised ya? A pack o’ dogs?”

“Let go of me!” I snapped, taking a swipe at the keeper’s grip on my head. He only laughed at my weak attempt.

“Mad Dog, that’s ya name, eh?” he suggested, cackling.

Without the knowledge of another name to correct him, I became Mad Dog, the orphan.

* * *

There must have been a reason why I didn’t remember anything earlier than that, but I couldn’t find one. I scowled, shaking the memory out of my head, before inching my way off the ledge. I scaled back down the castle wall, and dangled in front of the window of the room for a second before swinging myself in and dropping back onto the floor.

“Thought you were going to have a little fun on your own, huh?” a cool voice asked, and I flinched. I looked up, shoulders up to my ears, to see Oikawa leaning on the doorframe to the room. I wondered if scrambling back outside would be safer than staying here.

“Uh… just thought I’d…” I tried to explain, but he walked towards me, chocolate hair ruffled and hanging in his eyes and arms crossed over his chest.

“Kentarou used to do the same thing while he was living at the castle,” he said. “In any other case, I would laugh and say how odd it was that you and the prince share a reckless streak. But,” he said, in my space now, and when our eyes locked, I saw the fire burning behind his, “it’s another thing entirely when Yahaba comes running into my chambers, absolutely hysterical about your disappearance.”

I blinked once, twice, and let that soak in. “ _Yahaba_? Worried about _me_? You’re an idiot if you believe that I would buy a lie like that! He’s done nothing but bitch and moan at me since I’ve been here!”

“You don’t think he cares?” Oikawa pressed, poking my chest with a slender finger. “You don’t think we _all_ care? I might have bought you out of that orphanage, and treated you poorly on the way here, but have I not treated you with nothing but benevolence since you agreed to work with me? Iwaizumi and Yahaba are more than capable of refusing to help me train you to be prince, and I am just as capable as dropping you off at the next town over and never deal with you again! I care about keeping this kingdom safe, but that’s not the extent of why I’m doing all this!” His voice had risen to a shout by then, his eyes intense, before he realized what he was doing and taking a step back. “Obedience to me is not the extent of Yahaba’s investment in you, either. Think about that.”

I flinched when he ruffled my hair, his hand lingering longer than it should have. I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move away from him, couldn’t process what he said.

“Get some rest, Mad Dog. We still have a long way to go,” he said softly, before nodding at me once and walking out of the room.

I don’t know how long I stood there, numb, until the door was opening once more and Yahaba was slipping inside.

“Where were you?” he asked, his expression carefully neutral.

“Out,” I replied, my voice cracking. He huffed at my response, shaking his head a little.

“Anyhow, you should be getting to slee- are those your old clothes?” he asked, finally looking at me and taking in how I was dressed.

“You sat there and made sure I didn’t run last night,” I noted, ignoring his question. He blinked, before nodding slowly. “When did you sleep?”

“I slept while Oikawa was assessing your reading and writing skills,” he answered, huffing in annoyance and looking down at the floor. “But that doesn’t matter, you should really-”

“Sleep,” I said, looking at him sternly and pointing at the bed. He froze, looked from the bed, to me, back to the bed. He opened his mouth, and shut it again, before he finally spoke.

“I was instructed to make sure that you don’t-”

“I’m not going to run, okay?! Just fucking go to sleep!” I said, pointing at the bed a little more insistently. I wouldn’t let him finish that sentence, I wouldn’t dare; all thoughts of running were dead and gone from my mind.

_“You don’t think he cares? You don’t think we all care?”_

“I’m not your servant! I don’t have to listen to whatever you tell me to!” Yahaba yelled back, his hands fists.

“I’m just trying to be nice! I won’t leave this fucking room again, so just go to sleep!” I assured. I started moving, and I saw Yahaba tense before I plopped down into the corner of the room nearest to the foot of the bed. I tucked my knees close to my chest and glared at him. He blinked at me, baffled.

“That doesn’t look comfortable at all,” he noted, all anger gone from his voice.

“Neither was sitting in a chair all night, I bet,” I mumbled, but I knew he heard me. “Besides, I’m used to sleeping on the floor,” I added absentmindedly, not seeing him wince at my words.

“Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or something?” Yahaba asked after a couple silent seconds.

“Go to sleep.”

“Okay…”

I watched as Yahaba carefully slipped under the bedcovers, the ones that looked way too thick to be comfortable. He nestled himself in between the plethora of pillows, and I swear I heard a sigh. I rolled my eyes, and leaned my head against the wall to my right.

I was asleep before I knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and a big, extra special, thank you for everyone who commented! You guys are great! Please tell me what you think!   
> (Also, you can come scream with me on tumblr! I'm hijackedhoneybeeez!)  
> Stay safe and have a good one, alright?


	3. "You don't think he cares?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERES SO MANY FEELS

“Hey, Mad Dog... hey, come on, wake up…MAD DOG!”

A hand shook my shoulder violently, and I jerked awake almost instantly. I hurried to sit up to see what was happening, because being the oldest at the orphanage meant that I had to break up most of the fights that broke out among the younger ones. Before I could lift my head even three inches of my pillow _(a pillow?)_ or kick the blanket off my legs _(there was a blanket?)_ , my forehead collided with something hard.

“OW!”

“SHIT!” I swore, smacking a hand to my forehead and rubbing at the injured spot. I grimaced under the pain, and looked around for the little shit who did that. They _knew_ not to wake me up like… that…

_This isn’t the orphanage._

The blanket that pooled in my lap was dark blue and thick, not tattered and thin like I expected. There was a weak light spilling from the long windows that lined one wall of the regal room. I blinked, once, twice, and looked to my side. Yahaba stood there, his hand clapped to his forehead and a pained expression on his face. I put the pieces together, and my eyes narrowed at him.

“What the hell was that for?” I spat, kicking the blanket off my lap for good and slipping off the bed to stand next to him.

“I didn’t think you’d sit up like that!” he said, standing a little straighter and using his height to give him the upper hand.

“What were you doing hovering over me like that!?” I asked, dropping my hand off my forehead and balling both into fists at my sides. I wasn’t angry, not really, just a little embarrassed and confused- _no_ , mostly confused, because _what the hell was he doing over me like that?_

“I was trying to wake you up!” Yahaba argued back, huffing, before his shoulders dropped and his gaze shifted to his shoes momentarily. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know you would do that.”

“Why the hell are you apologizing? It was my fault in the first place,” I muttered, shifting from one foot to the other, a little uncomfortable. Oikawa’s words from two days ago rang in my ears once more, for the countless time since he said them. They almost hurt to think about, not only because the idea that someone would care for me more than they needed to was wrong, but also because his words popped into my mind the moment I needed them the most.

Yahaba apologizing for something that wasn’t even his fault was just one case that proved Oikawa’s words right, and I couldn’t take it.

“Well, anyways,” Yahaba said, turning away and grabbing some clothes off a chair, “get dressed. Or do you need help with these?” He handed me the clothes, and my eyes widened at them. They felt… different in my hands, obviously not made of the same material as the other clothes I’ve been in. They were softer, or at least well worn, and didn’t even have a design on it. Yahaba cleared his throat, and when I looked up at him, he had a pointed glance pointed at me.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, dropping the clothes onto the bed. I stripped off my old clothes, which Oikawa’s let me wear as pajamas now, and pulled on the new ones Yahaba handed me. The pants were a deep brown, and tighter than I expected, but at least I could still bend comfortably in them. The tunic was green, and was by far the softest thing Yahaba’s thrown at me since being here. It was a little loose, but it felt good. I slipped on the shoes that were by the foot of the bed, and stood in front of Yahaba.

“You look… surprised,” he said lightly, his eyes flicking down to my feet and back up slowly.

“Can I wear something like this all the time?” I asked, surprised when my question sent Yahaba into a fit of laughter. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Yahaba wheezed a second later, waving a hand and dismissing my question. “You… you know Oikawa wouldn’t allow it. He’ll say that… you need to get used to the stuffy clothes for when you become prince,” he tried to say, still in the middle of regaining his breath. “C’mon…” he breathed, smiling at… something, hell if I knew, but I was damn sure it wasn’t me, as he jerked his head towards the door.

“Where’re we going?” I asked, following him out of the room. He shot me a glance as he shut and locked the door behind us. There was something behind his eyes that made me take a step back.

“To start your next set of lessons,” he said simply, before leading me out of the castle.

The sky was lit up brilliantly, light blue slowly replacing the swirling colors sunrise painted across the expanse. I stared at the sky for a second, in awe, before realizing what time it must be and fixing a smoldering look at the back of Yahaba’s head.

“It’s fucking early, why are we outside?” I spat, and he didn’t answer me. He just kept on walking. I rolled my eyes at how stupid he was being. Why wouldn’t he just fucking tell me? It wasn’t like it was some huge secret, anyways. He marched past the place where Iwaizumi and I duel and kept walking towards the stables-

_The stables. Horses._

“Fuck no,” I breathed, coming to a halt while Yahaba kept on marching forward. It took him a second or two before he realized that I wasn’t following him. When he turned around, an expectant, small smile on his face, I shook my head. “I’m not riding a fucking horse,” I swore, my fingernails digging into my palms.

“Oikawa told me you would react like this,” he sighed, but obviously not as under his breath as he hoped, because I heard him loud and clear despite the distance between us. He walked back, and I was tempted to take a step back with every stride he took. “C’mon, there’s nothing wrong with these guys, they’re perfectly tame-”

“I don’t fucking care! I’m not riding!” I shouted, flinching back when he reached for my wrist. I wouldn’t, under any circumstances, go near those things. There’s no way. Animals have hated me for as long as I can remember, and I wasn’t going to take my chances with something about five times my size and that could potentially kill me. Yahaba sighed next to me, hanging his head, and when he glanced back up at me, his eyes were shining with… something. It fled the moment he opened his mouth, though.

“Which would you rather have, me instructing you with horses, or Oikawa?” he asked, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. “Oikawa taught me how to ride when I got here, and he’s a great teacher and all, it’s just… he has a ‘no-fear’ style,” he explained, and laughed a little at himself. “He literally picked me up and forced me onto the horse, I was so scared.” When he looked up, that shining in his eyes was back again. “I’m sure he could do the same to you.”

I was going to argue and say that Oikawa was just a petty noble that couldn’t lift his pinkie finger without assistance. That was the kind of insults we spat at nobles as they passed by while I was still at the orphanage, but of course, those that passed didn’t pay us any mind. The remark almost flowed out of my mouth instinctively, but then I remembered all the times Oikawa’s manhandled me, hauled me to my feet, directed me towards something I didn’t want to go near. I was sure he could pick me up, too.

“Let’s go…” I growled, resigned. Yahaba smiled, before nudging my shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured before heading over towards the stables once again.

The stables were different, made of thick wood instead of brick like the castle. The smell was overwhelming, although not as bad as I thought it would be. A section of the wall was dedicated to equipment, tacked with saddles, bridles, spurs, among other things, and had shovels and the like propped up against it. In the same corner, a dog was curled up, asleep.

I gasped at the sight of the dog, and took a step back. Yahaba side-eyed me, and I shot him a glare to stop him from saying something shitty, like, “ _What, Mad Dog doesn’t like his own kind?_ ” I’d heard it enough before at the orphanage. There weren’t many dogs in the town, and most of them were hunting dogs; what I saw of them wasn’t very appealing.

“Come,” Yahaba beckoned instead, latching onto my sleeve and pulling me towards the center of the stables. Horses were lined on either side now, looking at me curiously and stretching their noses out to see what they could glean from my scent. I shied away from the closest one, who snorted at me. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t pick one if you had the choice, huh?”

“Not a chance,” I grunted in response. Yahaba huffed, before moving away from me. I was torn between following him around and sticking to where I was. Yahaba was safety from these… creatures, and they seemed calm enough but I didn’t know what I would do to tick them off and cause them to want to pummel me into the ground. I decided to stay put, my whole body rigid; I stared down at the floor, head bent, hands clenched at my sides, hoping I wouldn’t seem threatening or that the ground would swallow me whole right then and there.

There was a metallic click that made me look up, and I saw Yahaba leading brown-and-white horse out of its stable by a rope. That thing was taller than Yahaba, which was taller than me, which was _terrifying_.

I guess I might have gasped or something, because Yahaba snapped his head in my direction, eyes wide and mouth open, about to say something, when he saw my gaze on the horse.

“Get over here,” he said, sighing.

“No.”

“She won’t hurt you-”

“I don’t care!”

“ _Mad Dog!_ Get over here before I tell Oikawa to take over!” Yahaba hissed, not yelling, probably for the horses’ sake. I saw the dog stir out of the corner of my eye. The horse held in place by Yahaba flicked at ear.

I inched closer. Yahaba waited, a certain sense of patience about the way he was standing and how he was stroking the horse’s nose in the meantime. When I was only a couple steps away, he turned towards me, almost as if he wasn’t watching me the whole time.

“Hold this, please,” he said, his voice sugary as he held out the lead rope. I scowled at it. “I’m not saying jump off a cliff, Mad Dog, I’m just asking you to hold this for a second while I get everything prepared,” he said reasonably, and before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and pressed the rope into it before forcing it into a fist. “See? Easy! Don’t be nervous!” he said, putting a comforting hand on shoulder before moving away.

The horse plodded a couple steps closer to me, recognizing that I was holding its lead now. I tensed, my hold on the rope turning my knuckles white as I tried to shy away from the horse. Every step I took away from the creature, it took towards me, crowding into my space and ultimately nudging my shoulder with its nose. I cringed.

“ _Yahaba!_ ” I yelled as the horse continued to come closer.

“Gods, you would think she was trying to kill you with the way you’re acting,” Yahaba quipped, plucking the lead out of my hand and setting out set everything up, his hands full with all the things he needed to sort out. There was a bark, and I jumped. “Oh, and you woke up Yan, too. Good job,” Yahaba muttered, chuckling a little to himself.

This wasn’t funny. This wasn’t funny _at all_. The dog circled around Yahaba’s feet excitedly, almost tripping him, and barked wildly, until it spotted me. The dog and I locked eyes before it rushed towards me.

I didn’t scream, I swear.

“Mad Dog, calm the hell down!” Yahaba said, a little irritated. “Yan, _come_!” The dog stopped jumping up at me and pawing at my shins and trotted back to Yahaba, sitting down next to him with his tail wagging slightly.

“Fucking little _demon_ …” I muttered, clicking my tongue and looking away from the creature.

“I told you, all the horses in here are tame, and Yan is here to keep them calm when a storm passes and things like that,” Yahaba explained, finishing up his task of getting the horse ready. He flipped the reigns in front of the horse, and held onto them tightly. “There’s nothing to be scared of, Mad Dog,” he said after a second, his voice gentle. I looked at him, my eyes narrow.

“I’m not scared.”

“Fine, then hold her reigns while I get my horse ready,” Yahaba said. I scoffed at his remark, and he huffed in response. “Look, if I wanted to kill you, I would have stabbed you in your sleep already. You’re safe. Don’t you trust me?”

_“You don’t think he cares?”_

“Gimme the reigns…” I muttered, no longer having an excuse to refuse him. If he cared like Oikawa said, he wouldn’t put me in danger. I should have known that. When he passed me the reigns, our fingers brushed. The touch was light, and I shouldn’t have reddened the way I did.

The horse nudged me again, and I glanced at it fearfully. Old habits die hard, I guess. Yahaba laughed softly next to me, before reaching out and petting the horse one last time before moving away and opening a chestnut horse’s stall.

“It’s okay to pet her, you know,” Yahaba said over his shoulder as he attended to his horse.

I gulped. He expected me to pet it? I guess that made sense. Baby steps first, and seeing how he wanted me to ride it later, it seemed like one step in the right direction.

Honestly, I was just glad the dog was back in its corner.

The horse huffed, making me tense, before I blew out breath I was holding. I eyed the horse, and was relieved when its huge brown eyes weren’t directed at me. I raised a shaky hand, my heart stuttering in my chest as I did so, and moved it closer to the horse’s nose slowly. I don’t know how long it was until the horse’s attention was moved back on me, and when it spotted my raised hand, it pushed its nose into my palm.

“ _Gods_ …” I breathed, nearly dying on the spot. I was touching a horse, something that could easily knock me over and crush me. I was touching it and it was _letting me_ and… “H-Hey…” I heard myself murmur shakily as I started moving my hand to pet it properly.

I swore I heard Yahaba laugh at me, but when I turned around, his face was schooled into a neutral expression.

“Lead her outside for me, like this,” he said, giving me no time to refuse as he demonstrated how to lead a horse by the reigns with his own steed. I copied him, and, surprisingly, the horse listened to me. Yahaba smiled at me when he stopped in a clearing right outside the stables. I started patting the side of horse’s neck when we stopped. “All this from a person who was terrified,” he mumbled, shaking his head at me.

“What?” I said.

“Nothing. Do you know how to sit in the saddle?” Yahaba asked, changing the subject quick enough.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” I mumbled, flicking the reigns over the horse’s head. I stuck my foot into a stirrup, hoisted myself up, and then swung my other leg around. One of my hands instantly went to a spot at the front of the saddle while the other held the reigns tight. Yahaba just blinked at me. “Right?” I asked.

“You know, most people hold the reigns with both hands when they’re on a horse for the first time,” he pointed out, his voice indifferent in a way that made me want to hop off and shake him.

“That’s wrong,” I said, frowning a little.

“ _I_ know that, but how do _you_?” Yahaba asked, an eyebrow raised in question.

My eyes widened, and I looked down at my hands, away from him. I didn’t second guess myself, didn’t think twice about hopping onto the saddle and positioning my hands. I should have been terrified, should have thought twice about getting on the back of the animal that I thought would have killed me a couple minutes ago. I shouldn’t have done that, and yet I did. And it felt right, natural, like suddenly how I saw the world was shifted and it felt _right_ again, like I wasn’t an orphan and I-

“So what now?” I asked, cutting my thoughts off by changing the topic. I could deal with that later, shove it in the back of my mind, think about stupid things like that some other time where I wasn’t sitting on a horse… a horse that seemed a little anxious to get moving.

“Right…” Yahaba said, grunting a little bit as he heaved himself on top of his own horse.

“Wait, you’re not going to help me?!” I asked, frantic, hating the way he smirked at me in response.

“I have a feeling you’re going to do just fine,” he assured.

After that, it was a mix of exasperated sighs, loose explanations, and vague hand gestures until I was able to nudge my horse into something a little faster than a walk. Yahaba laughed at how I jostled around for a second, but then I shifted into a position that minimized the movement. He stared at me, baffled for a second, before shaking his head and hiding his grin.

“We need to get back before breakfast. Race you to the stables?” Yahaba asked, a grin on his face that I _really_ wanted to punch off.

“Haha, very funny,” I grunted, rolling my eyes at him before directing my horse back.

Yahaba and I dismounted, and Yahaba called in another servant to take care of the horses while we headed back into the castle hurriedly. Well, as hurriedly you could go after riding a horse. Yahaba had no problem, but I felt a little weak at the knees, like the world shifted under my feet every couple seconds.

“Well, there you two are,” Oikawa said as we walked into the dining hall. “We were starting to get worried.” His smirk was dangerous, and so was Iwaizumi’s quirked eyebrow. I looked at my feet. “You know, when I send in a servant and find a room empty, that usually only means-”

“Oikawa, can I talk to you about something?” Yahaba asked, his voice polite and controlled, unlike the taunting tone he took while talking to me earlier. Oikawa stopped his suggestive banter and gave him a look. “Something _important_ ,” Yahaba stressed, and immediately Oikawa was on his feet.

“My apologies, Iwa and Mad Dog, but you’ll be dining alone this morning. Go ahead and start dueling lessons after breakfast. I’ll fetch him after this… conversation… is finished, okay Iwa?”

“We’ll be fine, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi answered, the corners of his lips upturning a little. With that, Oikawa pressed a small kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek, before both him and Yahaba stalked out of the dining hall.

Iwaizumi and I talked about strategy over a breakfast of eggs, muffins, fruit, and juice. We would have eaten more, but considering the fact that we would be dueling right after, we opted out of eating anything heavier than that. I tried getting him to tell me what that whole thing was about, with Yahaba and Oikawa, but he told me not to worry about it and forget about it completely.

He nearly choked at the last part, though, and I looked at him skeptically.

We ran around the perimeter of the castle before we started, getting warmed up before anything else. Iwaizumi was really for that kind of stuff. I would rather just get started, but he insisted. The run turned into a race at the halfway mark, and Iwaizumi beat me, but only barely.

“Nice try, Mad Dog,” he said, ruffling my hair as I caught my breath after the loss. I ducked out from under his touch, and he laughed. “I think you’re ready,” he said after a second, when I stood up a little straighter and was able to breathe without gasping,

“Ready for what?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. He smirked.

“A real sword,” he answered smoothly. My mind flashed back to yesterday, when I asked Iwaizumi to not hold back while fighting me; I was on my back with his wooden sword pressed against my throat three seconds after Yahaba yelled for us to start. That kind of force… that power… but with a _blade_ …

“You’ll kill me,” I said bluntly, blinking at him.

“They’re dulled, Mad Dog. Even if we accidentally land a blow, there’s no way we would get injured. Well, aside from the usual bruises,” Iwaizumi added hastily when I squinted at him. “C’mon,” he said, leading me over to a part of the castle I never noticed before.

It was an enclosed hall of sorts, torches tacked to the walls and already burning. The orange glow from the torches made the marble look dirty, tarnished. The walls were lined with swords, and other weapons. There was an axe, and I could have sworn there was a spear. Iwaizumi directed me to a section of the wall at the far end of the hall, and put a hand on my shoulder.

“Pick any one you want,” he said lightly, his hand slipping away just as suddenly as it appeared. I nodded, before glancing at all the swords in front of me. There was really no need, though, because I _knew_ which one I wanted. My fingers twitched as I stepped towards the wall, and I had to keep myself from shaking as I reached out and grabbed the leather-bound hilt. I lifted it off the wall, and nearly dropped it when I underestimated its weight.

The blade wasn’t very long, and it was decently thick, but the hilt was wrapped in worn leather and studded with various emeralds and rubies. The weight felt _right_ in my hand, and I absentmindedly corrected the slight downwards dip the blade made as I held it with my other hand.

“Why that one?” Iwaizumi asked me, smirking a little as he watched me test out the sword.

_‘It spoke to me,’_ I wanted to say, but all that came out of my mouth was, “Could get some money from the emeralds and rubies if I could pry them off.” Iwaizumi frowned slightly, before sighing sharply.

“Well, you definitely aren’t stealing it, that’s for sure,” Iwaizumi said, giving me a meaningful look as he picked his own sword, one with a short, thick blade and a simple hilt. “If the twin of Prince Kentarou’s sword of choice went missing, he would most likely run into the civil war with your head on a pike.”

I rubbed at my neck uncomfortably. “I wasn’t going to steal it. Where would I go, anyways?”

“I know. I was kidding,” he said, “well, partially.” He jerked his head and we both exited the secluded hallways and headed back from our dueling clearing.

We didn’t need to say anything else, taking our stances and looking each other in the eye. We both nodded, and the dueling began.

* * *

“About time!” Iwaizumi said, barely paying attention as he blocked my half-assed attack. We’d been at it for about an hour, Iwaizumi never stopping; I was a mess, but he was completely fine. _Seriously, how much stamina does this guy have?_

“Sorry for the delay, Iwa!” Oikawa said, a bright smile on his face. “One thing led to another, and Yahaba and I lost track of time.” His excuse seemed flimsy at best, but I held my tongue. I thought getting my breath back was a bit more important than pointing out his obvious bullshit, anyways.

“You stink,” Yahaba said, looking down at me with an unimpressed expression as I rested my hands on my knees. I still had my sword in my hand, and I really wanted to take a swing.

“Thanks for the… observation, asshole,” I muttered, trying to breathe deeply, and failing miserably.

“Language, Mad Dog!” Oikawa called in a sing-song voice. I grit my teeth at how ridiculous he was. “Yahaba, get him cleaned up please, and then get him to the library. We still need to work more on your penmanship,” Oikawa said, crossing his arms over his chest. Iwaizumi looked nonchalant next to him, and in the next second, he leaned forward and plucked my sword from my hand.

“I’ll put this back. Now go,” he said lightly, and I couldn’t help but nod.

“Why does he only listen to you, Iwa?” Oikawa whined loudly.

“Let’s get out of here before he has another conniption fit,” Yahaba said, looking like he was trying to hold in his laughter as he said it. I only nodded, and waved slightly at Iwaizumi as he headed back into the castle.

“What the hell was that all about?” I asked, grabbing Yahaba’s wrist and stopping him from walking as soon as we were in the castle halls.

“What was _what_ about, Mad Dog?” he replied, confused. I growled.

“You know what I’m talking about! Why did you have to talk to Oikawa?” I pressed, hoping I could get some kind of information from him. Sure, maybe I was nosy, but none of this has been a coincidence, Oikawa made that clear since day one. Either something is not going according to plan, or things are progressing quicker than they thought. But what the hell was it?

“He was right about something, that’s all. I thought I would tell him,” he said, shrugging.

“You said it was important.”

“When Oikawa is right, he thinks it’s important; if I neglected to tell him, he would have been hurt,” Yahaba answered, his voice tight. Then it hit me; he sounded like he did on the first day, all business and no… well, he sounded nothing like the bossy asshole I’d gotten to see him as. So either he was lying or he was uncomfortable. Either way, I was pissed.

“Oh, here we go with _this_ bullshit again,” I said, unable to keep the venom out of my voice. “Really, I thought we were past this.”

“Past what? I’m telling you the truth!” Yahaba argued, and I could pick out the hurt in his voice no matter how well he tried to hide it with indignation. I wish I couldn’t have taken it back, but the damage was done.

“Whatever,” I spat, before heading back towards the room myself.

“Why would I lie to you?” Yahaba pressed, continuing the conversation as he trailed after me. “I was telling Oikawa that he was right about something, something that he _needed_ to know he was right about! Don’t you trust me? If it had anything to do with you, then I would have-”

“But it _did_ have something to do with me, and I know it!” I yelled, cutting him off. I stopped walking and turned on my heel, only to notice that Yahaba was closer than I anticipated. We were in each other’s space, but I couldn’t care less and neither could he. “I’m not blind! I can tell you were talking about me, so don’t spew that crap about you telling me if I’m involved!”

His eyes were wide, but far from shining with tears. There was a sense of determination hanging behind their color, calculating, weighing the odds before he opened his mouth. I hated him for it. _If you have something to say, then just say it!_

“That’s part of the problem, Mad Dog, I’m not allowed to tell you,” he explained, his voice low. “I know that pisses you off, I’m not blind either. But I can’t tell you anything. Oikawa made me swear not to, but the moment things become a little more than suspicions, then I’ll beg him to let me tell you. I think you need to know, that you _deserve_ to know, but false hope is a double-edged sword, and Oikawa doesn’t want you to suffer from it. So… _please_ …”

This can’t be happening. It was so easy, _so easy_ , to get Yahaba to snap, to tell me what he was really feeling. He’s done it before, and yet… I wasn’t ready for this. It was just another piece to the puzzle, another brick being placed in a nearly-finished wall. He couldn’t tell me what the hell was going on, but he _wanted_ to. Not like Oikawa, who would rather leave me in the dark. Not like Iwaizumi, who would rather not draw attention to it at all. Yahaba told me that, yes, there was something going on, and he wanted to me to know about it. He felt like I deserved to know. He probably said that to Oikawa’s face, and got shot down for it. He said he would beg Oikawa to tell me. _Beg_ …

_“You don’t think he cares?”_

Tears burned at the corner of my eyes.

“I can wash up by myself,” I muttered, knowing he heard me, before turning around and making my way to the room once more.

This time, I didn’t hear his footsteps follow me.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent in the library with Oikawa and about a thousand pieces of parchment. My arms ached; they were already sore from dueling with Iwaizumi, but the extra strain of writing only added to my discomfort. I gritted my teeth and bared it, though, because the thought of complaining to Oikawa was lost on me.

He made me write words and phrases over and over and over again until the slightest amount of improvement showed on the pages. There would have been more, but my hands felt dead about halfway through the practice. Oikawa still seemed to be impressed by my improvement, though, and ruffled my hair obnoxiously before leading me to the dining hall for dinner.

“Yahaba tells me you’re scared of animals,” he said conversationally when the silence became a little more than unbearable.

“I’m not scared of them,” I muttered.

“But you rode a horse anyway,” he continued as if he didn’t hear me. He turned his head and looked at me, a bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You’re getting it now, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice bubbly. I looked back at him, shying away and hoping I looked as every bit as confused as I felt.

“Getting what?”

“That all of us really want the best for you,” he said, slinging an arm over my shoulders and pulling me close. _Well, there goes my plans to escape this madman_. “I know you might not be familiar with this sort of thing, being in an orphanage for most of your life-”

“I was in there my whole life, not just most of it,” I said, giving him a stern look. “It’s the only thing I remember.”

“My point still stands. You don’t really know what it’s like to have people stand behind you. But we are; we’re your-”

“Family?” I supplied, finishing his sentence for him. “You bought me, Oikawa, you didn’t adopt me.”

“I see,” Oikawa said, pursing his lips. The conversation died off after that.

Dinner was a quiet affair. No one spoke much, and the tension was tangible. I didn’t meet Yahaba’s eye; the only thing I focused on was my plate and the food in front of me. I ate as much as I could, and even then it wasn’t all that much.

Oikawa dismissed both me and Yahaba the moment he spotted me pushing my food around my plate instead of eating. Apparently, Yahaba wasn’t very hungry, either, because he rose from the table without complaint.

We left the hall with half-hearted ‘good night’s, and made our way to the room. The walk was blanketed by silence, one that tangible, suffocating, and unbreakable. It made me tug at my collar and shift my eyes as far away from Yahaba as I possibly could. I wanted to say something, anything, but the words stuck I my throat and none of them felt right.

The silence was broken with a sigh from Yahaba the moment we were both inside the room and the door was shut behind us.

“Mad Dog-”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out before he could say anything more. He blinked at me, eyes wide, before shaking his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said, his voice quiet, yet deafening in the stillness of the room.

“Yes, I do-”

“No, you don’t. This whole thing was my fault; if anything, I should be the one apologi-”

“ _You didn’t do anything wrong!_ ” I yelled, cutting him off. “You haven’t done anything wrong since the moment I came here! So just let me fucking apologize!” My hands were fists, even if I didn’t want them to be. Yahaba had an expectant look on his face, almost as if he was letting me continue without saying anything. “I’ve treated you like shit since I got here. All I’ve done is yell at you and find ways to piss you and Oikawa off. I thought that you liked watching me struggle. I thought you were an asshole. I thought you were a know-it-all. I thought that you wanted to see me when I was at my worst, and that’s why you pushed me to do things I was against.”

“Is there a ‘but’ anywhere in here, or-?” Yahaba cut in, a slightly worried expression on his face.

“ _And I’m sorry_ ,” I breathed, running a hand through my hair. “I thought wrong. I didn’t know you, I still don’t know you. I’m sorry I thought the worst of you when all you’ve ever done is…” I couldn’t say it. It was one thing to understand, to know; it was another thing entirely to say it. The words stuck in my throat, but Yahaba seemed to understand.

“I forgive you,” he said, before adding, “even though there’s nothing to forgive.” I was going to argue with him, but smiled at me. I bit back the words I was going to say instantly, something twisting in my gut. “Now, go to sleep. We’re riding again tomorrow morning,” he said, going over to the closet and throwing my old clothes at me in lieu of pajamas.

I nodded at him, and changed quickly. I felt a prickling feeling at the back of my neck, but I brushed it off. Then, I walked to the corner and was just about to collapse into it when Yahaba spoke up.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked mildly, confused and curious all at the same time. I gave him a look.

“If you think I’m taking the bed after all I’ve done to you, you’re wrong,” I explained. I really did feel horrible about all this; even if he was a little bit of an asshole, he was one for a good reason, an _impossible_ reason, but a reason nonetheless. The thought of me sleeping in the bed and him in the chair after realizing this was bullshit. He deserved better than to have to watch me all night.

“We’ll both sleep in it, then,” Yahaba said gently, looking at the floor. I choked at the suggestion, and he looked up at me, frantic. “What? Oikawa’s going to be pissed if he finds out that you sleep on the floor sometimes, and you obviously aren’t going to let me stay up all night. So… it’s a compromise…” his explanation ended weakly, but it got me out of the corner and standing next to him instead.

“We tell no one.”

“Of course. And you have to stay on your side of the bed.”

“No shit. It’s big enough for the two of us.”

“Right.”

We refused to meet each other’s eye as we settled on either side of the bed, facing away from each other. I held onto the blanket I secured tightly, almost wanting to cover my face with it and suffocate in my sleep. We weren’t touching, but I could feel him behind me, radiating warmth, and his breathing was a lot louder and more relaxing than I thought it would be.

I tried to think of something else, anything else, really, but I found myself matching my breathing with his and falling asleep with one last thought going through my head.

_‘Maybe having someone care for you isn’t so bad after all.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! thank you so much for reading this!  
> Okay, couple of things! The concept of Mad Dog being scared of animals is from one of my posts (here: http://hijackedhoneybeeez.tumblr.com/post/142138475172/in-my-mind-i-think-kyoutani-would-be-scared-of)  
> One more thing! Updates might be a little spotty from here on out because break is ending and I'll have a LOT less time to write this! Wish me luck, and leaving a comment will really help me write faster!  
> Thank you so much, again, and I hope you have a good day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a really long chapter

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I was cold. I was under a thick blanket,  curled in on myself with my head on an overly-stuffed pillow. I shouldn’t have been cold, and yet it felt like there was something _missing_ , something that sent a chill up my spine and shocking me awake.

I sat up and rubbed at my eyes, squinting against the light that shone through the tall windows. I blinked a couple times, before looking over to see a wide-eyed Yahaba standing in an awkward position next to the bed.

“Hi,” I muttered, my eyebrows furrowing.

“I didn’t think you would wake up so easily,” Yahaba sighed back, his voice still full of sleep, as he straightened up and stretched a little. He shuffled away, and perused through the closet for a second before pulling out two outfits. He tossed one to me, smirking when it hit my face, and held the other tight. “We’re going riding again, so get dressed,” he said, as explanation, before turning around, going into the bathroom, and shutting the door behind him.

I sighed, looking at the clothes that fell into my lap… and then noticed the blanket that was wrapped haphazardly around me. _I didn’t fall asleep with this_ … my eyes flicked over the rest of the bed, and spotted my own blanket, discarded, near the foot of the bed.

If that was mine, and this was technically his, then… The warmth, the feeling of something being wrong, his shocked expression when I woke up, what he said…

“ _What the fuck_ ,” I sighed, cradling my face in my hands for a quick second before taking a deep breath. I don’t know what happened last night, but whatever it was, whatever happened, wasn’t intentional. I mean, I don’t remember anything, and Yahaba was clearly embarrassed, so none of us… _wanted_ what happened, or whatever.

I rolled out of bed, shooting a look of disdain at the blanket I was under, before hastily pulling on my clothes.

Honestly, I probably should have saw this coming. How many times have I seen the younger ones cuddling each other early in the morning? It was probably for warmth, or safety, or maybe reassurance that they weren’t alone, or something along those lines. Who didn’t want to feel like they were a part of something bigger when you had nothing? But this was so much different, because I had everything I ever wanted, no matter how much I didn’t want it like this; I was warm and not hungry for a change, and I was in a bed… there was nothing, no reason whatsoever, for that to happen.

I could feel my face burning, practically see the tell-tale red on the tip of my nose, and I growled at myself. How stupid could I get? Clinging to someone in the middle of the night? It was pathetic. Maybe I didn’t know if that really happened last night or not, but… why else would Yahaba look like that? Why else would the pillow feel wrong, or feel like some kind of heat was missing from my shoulders or…?

I stumbled to the window and forced it open before gasping in the morning air. Forgetting to breathe sucks.

_Don’t think about that, don’t think about any of it. Who do you think you are? It was wrong, this whole thing is not anything you want, so entertaining any fantasies about something that probably didn’t even happen would be a waste of your goddamn time! Get your head on straight! Forget it ever happened! Nothing happened! Forget about your stupid thoughts and what you saw or felt and anything else you might be feeling! It’s not worth-_

“Are you going to jump or are you planning a circus act?” a curious voice asked behind me, and I really did almost catapult myself off the windowsill.

“What? I can’t breathe without you jumping down my throat about it?” I asked gruffly, forcing the window closed and raising an eyebrow at Yahaba.

“Not when you’re hanging out of the window like you’re waiting for me to push you out,” he answered, looking a little smug.

“Like you would push me out,” I remarked, rolling my eyes at him. “Are we leaving or what?” I asked, changing the subject quickly. I had a feeling that, if I pissed him off enough, Yahaba would push me out of a window, and even with it shut, I didn’t want to take my chances.

“Well, aren’t you eager?” Yahaba asked, sounding a lot like Oikawa as he pulled a bit of false cheer into his voice. I scowled at him, before he laughed at me and rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding! Take a joke, Mad Dog,” he said, shoving my shoulder a little before making his way towards the door.

“You don’t kid with me,” I muttered, following him.

“Not anymore,” he mumbled, so low I could barely hear him, his eyes downcast before they widened. It was like he wasn’t meant to say that. Too bad I didn’t know what he meant, otherwise it would be perfect material to hold over his head; his expression told me that much.

It was quiet on the way towards the stables, the sun just barely up like before. I tried to think of something else other than the lack of conversation between us, tried so hard _not_ to think of this as awkward, because it wasn’t and it won’t be, not unless I make it awkward, and there wasn’t even a reason for it to be awkward at all-

 _No. Just shut up. Stop_.

“You okay?” Yahaba asked, tilting his head to the side and giving me a look.

“Yeah, fine,” I replied, hating the way my voice snagged halfway out of my throat.

The dog was already up by the time we walked into the barn. It wiggled and barked at the both of us, and I hovered near the door so that the dog followed Yahaba instead of pestering me. Well, tried to, anyways, because when Yahaba started focusing on the horses instead of the dog, the thing shifted its attention to me.

It ran up to me, tongue lolling out of its mouth, its eyes wide as it looked up at me. I shied until my back hit the door, and the dog sat right in front of me, regarding me with inquisitive eyes.

“Be good, Yan,” Yahaba called to the dog, and it didn’t seem to take what he said into account all too well. It bounded up, putting its front paws on my chest and panting up at me. I cringed, twisting my face away from its tongue as it tried to lick me. “He wants you to pet him,” Yahaba said, glancing over and smiling.

“Shut up,” I grumbled, mustering enough courage to push the dog off me. It whimpered a bit when it went back to standing, but I patted its head in compromise.

“I always knew you could do it,” Yahaba said, grinning as he walked both horses closer to me. I stiffened, before forcing myself to relax. The dog nudged my hand with its nose, wanted me to pet him more.

“Yeah, well, being forced in here for the second time is sure to have better results,” I murmured, taking the reins of my horse from his hand. Our fingers brushed, and I looked away from him.

“Do you always have to be this bitter?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Do you always have to be this… this… weird?” I snapped, almost on instinct before I realized that I didn’t know what to say halfway through.

“Very articulate,” Yahaba said, rolling his eyes. “Come on.”

We led our horses outside, and unfortunately the dog followed us out. Starting off with that slightly-faster-than-slow pace from yesterday was easy enough. It felt familiar, sinking into that position that would make the ride a lot smoother, and somehow the muscle memory of the ride went back farther than just yesterday. My horse followed Yahaba’s automatically, giving me one less thing to do, because if I did anything to direct her, I’d probably lead us both straight into the pits of hell.

The only bad thing was that the dog wouldn’t stop following me. It just walked next to my horse, looking up at me contentedly and watching my every move. As long as he couldn’t reach me, I guess it was okay, but it was still unnerving to feel inhuman eyes trained on me.

“Alright, I think you’re ready,” Yahaba said, smiling a little as he stopped his horse and dismounted. He walked up to me, leaving his horse unattended, and put his hands on his hips expectantly.

“Ready for _what_?” I asked, not really sure if I wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Kentarou was extremely reckless, especially when it came to horses, so-” he started to explain, but I understood almost immediately.

“No,” I said, frowning.

“It’s not like you have a choice, Mad Dog-”

“There’s no fucking way I’m going to do tricks and shit on a horse!” I yelled. The dog yelped and my horse snorted at my outburst. I felt sort of bad for upsetting them, but there was just no way-

“I’m not saying tricks! Not right now, anyways,” Yahaba added hastily. “I just think you’re ready to start going a lot faster than this, that’s all.” It made me feel like an asshole, lashing out at him over something small like this, but I was still pretty terrified, regardless. I grit my teeth, and looked away from him.

“Show me what to do,” I grumbled.

* * *

“You know, you really are a natural at this kind of thing,” Yahaba said as we walked our horses back into the stables.

“Not really,” I grunted, handing off my horse to the servant that was waiting. The idea of servants still unnerved me; how could you let anyone do practically everything for you and not feel guilty about that? It pissed me off, but I knew Oikawa would probably laugh in my face and spew something about the ‘Royal World’ if I told him that I didn’t like the idea of servants.

“Yeah, you are,” Yahaba said, shooting me a look as handed off his own horse. “She likes you, you know?”

“She doesn’t like me, she _tolerates_ me.” I refused to say ‘ _like everyone else_ ,’ because, apparently, that wasn’t the case anymore.

“Yes, she does. I’ve never seen your horse work that well with anyone, ever, and trust me, these horses have been ridden by people with _much_ more experience than you,” Yahaba said, pushing at my shoulder as we headed towards the castle.

“I’m just lucky I didn’t fucking fall,” I mumbled. “We’re doing this tomorrow morning, too, huh?” I asked, really not looking forward to it. No matter how familiar riding felt, the weak feeling in my legs afterwards sure wasn’t, and I’m pretty sure I would fall on my face tomorrow if we did go riding again.

“No, I think I’ll let you sleep, for once,” Yahaba said, mockingly thoughtful.

I wasn’t listening anymore. _Sleep_. Gods… fuck what happened last night, actually. That didn’t matter. Things happen, and I didn’t even know _what_ happened, and there was nothing I could do about it. Sure, Yahaba probably knew what happened, but I’d rather have all my lessons be taught by Oikawa before I asked him what happened. So, no, fuck last night. Who cares? I don’t. But… sleep. _Tonight_. What the hell will happen tonight? Because there’s no way that I’m letting Yahaba stay up all night again, especially since last night did happen, and whatever happened, I regretted it. But then Oikawa would be upset if I slept on the floor and-

“Mad Dog?” someone asked, and when I looked up, Iwaizumi and Oikawa were giving me concerned yet confused looks. I blinked, and look at Yahaba, who shrugged. _Some help you ended up being._

“What?” I questioned, wondering why they were looking at me like that.

“You okay?”

“You were staring into space. Not very _royal_ of you, Mad Dog,” Oikawa said cheekily, drowning out any concern Iwaizumi expressed a second earlier.

“Not a royal until I convince those nobles, am I?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest and settling back on my heels. Oikawa actually laughed,

“You have no idea,” he said, and it actually took Iwaizumi to hold him to keep him upright.

“Anyways,” Iwaizumi said, giving Oikawa a short glare, “we were looking for you guys. You’re late for breakfast.”

“Ah, right. Sorry,” I said, ducking my head.

“It was my fault, I’m sorry,” Yahaba said, actually bowing, although shallowly.

“It doesn’t matter all that much, Yahaba,” Oikawa says, springing free from Iwaizumi’s grip and smiling widely. “We should all go out riding one of these days. I really want to see your skills, Mad Dog,” he said, puffing out his chest slightly like he was proud of me. I wanted to click my tongue at him.

“I don’t have any skills,” I muttered.

“Kentarou was very self-assured, so you better get used to accepting compliments or internalizing your insecurities,” Iwaizumi said, his voice hard, but not harsh. I looked up and met his eye, before nodding. What he said would take a little time. Being called a worthless piece of crap for what you remember of your life ruins your self-confidence, but I wouldn’t have to be me if I pass this nobility test thing.

All I have to do is persuade people who think they know me better than I do.

“Breakfast, right?” Yahaba spoke up, changing the subject. We all nodded.

* * *

“C’mon, you can do better than that!” Yahaba yelled from the sidelines when I tumbled to the ground, victim of Iwaizumi’s ankle trick yet again. I rolled to my feet quickly, my sword still held tight, my grip turning my knuckled white, but I had no time to focus; Iwaizumi was coming at me again, his sword moving in quick stabs and swift swings, the motions he’s adopted ever since he noticed my improvement.

“Shut… _up_!” I grunted back to the annoying bystander as I batted off one of Iwaizumi’s blows. I matched it with one of my own, hitting his sword so hard I was sure my arm would be numb for the rest of the duel. I danced a couple steps back, putting a little bit of space between us. I hissed through my teeth, my fingers tingling, before I tossed my sword to my left hand. Twirling the hilt around, I found the perfect grip for my left, my eyes never once leaving Iwaizumi’s form.

This felt good; the sword, the movement, the sweat, the fight… all of it. I couldn’t help but match Iwaizumi’s smirk with a grin of my own.

“Kentarou was trying to learn how to fight with his left hand before he left,” Iwaizumi remarked, lunging forward and starting yet another lazy cycle of thrust-and-parry, meant to tire your opponent and lure them into a false sense of stability before your final strike. I watched his every move perfectly, like he taught me.

“Met a guy that could use a sword with both hands, once,” I remarked back, trying to throw off the rhythm of clanking metal, but my left hand was still clumsy. “Probably one of the best fighters that I knew of before coming here,” I added, breaking the cycle to hit Iwaizumi’s sword with more force than necessary, making it point to the ground and almost lose his grip. He pulled up quickly, twisted his blade around mine, and freed himself from my plan.

“Was that your vague attempt at a compliment, Mad Dog?” he asked, a curious, amused lit to his voice. I felt my cheeks redden, but just slightly.

“That’s so lame, Mad Dog!” Yahaba shouted from afar, and I grit my teeth. _That little shit._

I wish I was fighting _him_ , that way I could trip him and make him land on his ass like I wanted to. I huffed at his remark, and took it out of Iwaizumi, instead.

I advanced slowly, matching his every blow with a block of my own and a step forward. He had to take a step back; he knew what would happen if got too close. I kept landing my blows lower and lower onto his blade, closer to his fingers, in hopes to catch him off-guard.

“Does he really bother you that much?” Iwaizumi asked, smirking a little as he continued to back up and block my hits, unafraid. I growled, and tried harder to disarm him. “I would have thought the opposite, given how close you’ve gotten since you arrived,” he added, carrying on even though I didn’t answer his question. I hit high on his sword this time, near the point, knocking his grip loose. I acted quickly, taking yet another swing, and the next thing I knew, Iwaizumi’s sword fell out of his grip and landed in the dirt. “You want to impress him,” Iwaizumi said simply, smiling widely at me. I scowled.

“I do _not_ ,” I refuted, looking away from him.

“Then what was all that about, hmm?” Iwaizumi asked. “How else would you explain your newfound desire to win only after he started goading you on?”

“Shut up,” I mumbled.

“I don’t think I will,” he replied levelly.

“You sound like Oikawa,” I tossed back.

“You sound like a love-sick puppy in denial,” he retorted.

“ _I DON’T-!_ ”

“That was probably the most intense duel I’ve ever seen you guys get in to,” Yahaba said, walking up to the both of us, a bounce in his step and a grin on his face. “Good job, Mad Dog,” he added lightly, nudging my shoulder. I flinched away from his touch and shot a glare at Iwaizumi. He looked mildly amused. “Are you-?” Yahaba asked, concern lacing his voice as he leaned forward a little to get a better look at me.

That’s when I knew I fucked up; I haven’t flinched at his touch since that first day.

“Just sore,” I replied quickly, not wanting to hear the care in his voice. My head spun. “Am I free to go?” I asked, hating how weak I sounded. Maybe that was for the better. Maybe it made me more convincing.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Iwaizumi said, plucking my sword from my hands as he did so. “Make sure to go get something from the kitchens, you look a little pale,” he added.

“No thanks to _you_ ,” I muttered.

“Then I think Oikawa’s in his study. He says he wanted to talk to you about something,” he added just as I was turning away.

“Oh, great,” I muttered as I walked back towards the castle.

“But, Iwa-”

“You have to help me put these swords back. C’mon,” I heard Iwaizumi say behind me, and I knew he was practically pulling Yahaba in the opposite direction without me even having to look.

I liked Iwaizumi. I respected him. He was a good guy, who dealt with Oikawa out of the kindness of his heart, who taught me how to defend myself, who is probably the most rational person to ever step foot in this castle. In a perfect world, I could say he was my friend, my mentor, someone to help me, maybe even family (but that was such a terrible word, with its own can of worms to open), but this wasn’t perfect and neither was I.

This was… preparation for a lie. After going to the castle, after becoming king, I’ll never see him again, or Yahaba. This was fake, it was nothing. Oikawa said that their helping me went further down than I thought, but I couldn’t see it. Why would they want to help me? I was nothing. They must have seen something in it for themselves.

 _Caring_. What a stupid concept. Why did I believe anything Oikawa said?

What Iwaizumi said felt like betrayal. _“You sound like a love-sick puppy.”_ What bullshit. It felt more like a stab in the chest than the real thing, when he tripped me and pressed the tip of his sword lightly to the place directly over my heart.

That wasn’t necessary. That wasn’t fair. I wasn’t in love with Yahaba.

I didn’t matter if he understood me better, if his touches felt familiar, if he was honest, if I listened to him even when I really didn’t want to, if I trusted him… So what? That didn’t mean I love him. He was still an annoying asshole who got on my nerves and tested my patience and joked about pushing me out of windows.

I was _forced_ to spend more time with him. That didn’t mean I liked him being there.

I dug my nails into my palms, angry for even having to think about. Angry that I had to rationalize all that to myself. Like I needed to convince myself that what Iwaizumi said wasn’t true.

Because it wasn’t, any of it. It’ll never be true. To hell with this morning, and the phantom heat he left behind, and the shocked expression he had when I looked at him, and the way he’s completely unaffected by it!

I made my way to the kitchens, and walked in effortlessly, my shoulders back, my eyes forward. That was another thing I learned in the village: when you’re in somewhere or doing something you aren’t supposed to, just act like you’re supposed to. If you’re believable and confident, no one will stop you. It worked, most of the time, until someone recognized me as the street crap that lived at the orphanage.

Now, it was the opposite. I had to act like I belong in the kitchens instead of at the dining table.

I made my way through until I came across a tray of sandwiches and pitchers full of water. I glanced around, and swiped a sandwich from the tray and a half-full pitcher. Then, I strolled out, ignoring the looks I got and looking blankly ahead.

This might not have been what Iwaizumi meant when he said ‘ _go get something to eat_ ,’ but I did, right? So, no harm, no foul.

I walked around until I found the perfect place to eat: a little dip in marble wall in one of the hallways. I noticed it on the way back to the room, and figured it used to be home to a suit of armor. Now, it just looked like an imperfect little place to each something. I tucked myself into the space and started eating, my knees bent up to my chest, back bent, eyes darting around and looking for anyone passing by. Funny, how old habits die hard, even when you think they’re conditioned out of you.

I gulped down the water last, drinking like a man dying of thirst, a trickle of it going down my chin and dribbling on my chest. I must have looked like a mess, crumbs everywhere and water spilled on my tunic that mixed with the sweat stains the probably formed from dueling, but I didn’t really care. I stood up, and dusted myself off, before heading over to Oikawa’s quarters. I left the pitcher there, swearing to myself that I would come back for it later; I wasn’t that inconsiderate, anyways.

Finding Oikawa’s quarters wasn’t hard in the least; all you had to do was find the gaudiest room in the whole fucking castle. The door was basically white, the wood probably bleached or bought from somewhere far off. The doorknob was silver, with an ornate design pressed onto it, and the plaque on the door had a simple, but elegant ‘ _O_ ’ engraved on it. I took a deep breath, wondering if I really wanted to do this. But I had to; I might have been pissed at Iwaizumi for what he said, but it would probably be best if I did what he told me to, in the long run.

I barely knocked once on the door before it swung open, revealing the tall, kind eyed, chocolate haired noble. The grin on his face unnerved me.

“Mad Dog, how good of you to stop by!” Oikawa exclaimed, taking a step forward and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I tried pulling away, but he only led me into the room and closed the door behind us. He directed me to a plush, deep red armchair and sat me down in it, before taking a seat next to me in a similarly expensive seat.

The room was everything I expected out of Oikawa, brightly lit from tall windows, with bookshelves lining the walls and flowers in vases here and there on shelves. There was a desk that he ignored, as well as a fireplace that wasn’t lit, and several doors that lead to other parts of his quarters.

“Well, I suspect that Iwaizumi sent you over, am I correct?” Oikawa said calmly, conversationally. I only nodded, not knowing what to say and his behavior making me nervous. What happened to all the smiles earlier? “I hardly think he told you what for,” he added, raising his chin and looking at me over the end of his nose. I clicked my tongue.

“Didn’t have to. Knowing it has something to do with you, it’s bound to be stupid,” I retorted. He didn’t look offended, only resigned, by my comment, and he pushed himself to his feet with a sigh.

“You might think this is stupid, yes, but it is necessary… unfortunately,” he muttered the last word as he started to circle my chair. “You shaved your hair, yes?” he asked, pulled softly at a tuft of my overly-long, fuzzy, brown hair. I hissed, ducking down and knocking his hand away.

“I had to. Everyone was making fun of me and saying I looked like a fucking noble-” I said, feeling the need to explain, before straightening up and turning around to give him a look. “How did you know I needed to cut my hair?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. He only smiled in return.

“Why, it’s what I called you in for today, Mad Dog,” he said easily, moving so that he was in front of me yet again. He didn’t sit down. “While acting like a prince is fine and all, what you need to do is look like the prince in order to completely win over the other nobles.”

“I thought you said I looked like the prince!” I refuted, standing up and balling my hands into fists.

“Your hair doesn’t quite coincide with the prince’s preferred hairstyle…”

“Preferences can change!”

“-and your eyes are significantly different, although we can chalk that up to aging,” Oikawa finished, giving no signs of hearing my outburst. I gave him a piercing glare, and he ignored it. “You said you would be my prince, Mad Dog. This comes with it,” his voice was level, forcibly so, and I took a step back, bumping into my chair. He was angry, irritated, but I had no idea why; he should have expected some kind of opposition from me, but it was like he was restraining himself from throwing me out of the window.

“Fine, do whatever you want with me,” I muttered, casting my eyes down the floor in resignation.

“Great! We start immediately!” Oikawa said, grabbing my arm, before stopping. “Oh, right, Mad Dog? Do you remember the hairstyle you had before cutting your hair?” he asked, a little uncertainty creeping into the edge of his voice. I frowned.

“I don’t think I ever saw myself in a mirror since I’ve been there,” I said honestly. Sure, there were murky reflections in dirty shop windows, distorted ones in blades, or fuzzy ones in puddles, but before coming here, I’ve never had a truly good look at myself; even then, I didn’t pay attention to my hair, I paid attention to my eyes, how they were red-rimmed and puffy almost constantly.

Oikawa must have followed my train of thought, because his grip on my arm slid up and left his hand on my shoulder. When I gave him a confused glare, I realized his eyes were soft and looked like they were shining with tears.

“I’m sorry. It must have been terrible at that orphanage,” he muttered, remorse saturated in his voice unlike anything I’ve ever heard when he spoke before, and I had to blink at him. He’s talked about the orphanage before, but every time, he spoke about it in a way that made himself and this whole scheme more appealing. But now… he sounded moved, his voice shaky, like this time he meant it. “If only I had known where you were… or what happened to you… I would have-”

“You didn’t even know I existed until you went on your search for your precious fake prince,” I said, cutting him off before he started actually crying or some shit like that. “There was nothing you could do about those assholes,” I spat, a little more force than the words called for. I didn’t want to reassure him, or tell him I’m better now, I wanted to tell him how stupid he was acting without actually saying the words. I guess I succeeded, because he froze for a second, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, before he snapped back to reality and pasted on a tight smile on his face.

“You’re right, Mad Dog,” he said, squeezing my shoulder a little and letting it fall off me. “You can’t help the past after all!” He laughed, but it was weak, forced, like he was trying to keep it all together. I was going to draw away from him, before he grabbed my arm again and pulled me towards one of the doors that led deeper into his quarters.

“And now the real work begins!”

* * *

Surprisingly, Oikawa was the one responsible for my change in appearance. He sat me down onto a stool the moment we entered the bathroom, which was just as big as the room we were in before. In front of me, there were a countless number of jugs and rags, and a long mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling. He messed with the jugs and rags for a second before turning back to me.

“Oh, right, we need to wash your hair first,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before beckoning me over to the huge bathtub.

“You sure you know how to do this?” I asked raising an eyebrow at him and jerking my thumb towards the jugs as I followed him. Oikawa followed my gesture before laughing.

“Oh please, I used to do this all the time,” he said waving a hand at me to dismiss me. “I’m better at this than any servant of mine. Now sit,” he said, pointing at the tub, a slight pout to his lips.

“ _What_? I’m still dressed-!”

“I’m not bathing you! Just get in!”

“I’ll get wet!”

“The Mad Dog I knew wouldn’t have minded getting a little dirty. What changed, hmm?” he retorted cheekily, a smirk playing on his lips. I shot him a glare, grumbled unintelligibly under my breath and stepped into the bathtub. “Sit!” he whined, pushing my shoulders down and directing me so that I faced away from the faucet.

“And what will this do, exactly?” I asked him, skeptical about this whole thing.

“Shut up, and let me work,” he said, poking my forehead and tilting my head back with one finger. Before I could do anything to refuse the movement, I had a bucket of water dumped on my head, drenching my face, hair, and my chest. I sputtered, sitting back up and coughing wildly, Oikawa laughing at me in the background.

“And you say you’re good at this?” I spat, swiping water out of my eyes. “Good at what, _trying to fucking drown people_?!”

“Language, Mad Dog,” he chastised lightly, a chuckle at the edge of his voice as he dabbed something into his hand and started rubbing it into my hair. “And maybe, it’ll serve as a reminder to listen to me, rather than protest, when I ask you to do something,” he added lightly. I grunted in response.

After he was done, he poured more water on me, but I was prepared this time, so I didn’t almost die. He dried off my hair and pointed me back to the stool. I sat on it bitterly, hunching over myself, before he draped the towel over my front and dug his knuckles into the small of my back.

“Don’t ruin all the progress we’ve made this past week!” he said, pinching my cheek before I slapped him away. “Plus, I need you sitting up for this,” he said, grabbing something from the throng of jugs. When he turned around, a silver pair of scissors were fitted on his fingers.

“If you poke my eyes out, I’ll-”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Oikawa said, rolling his eyes at me. He took a step closer, and a second later, little bits of my hair fell from my head. His movements were small, almost dainty, his tongue stuck out slightly in concentration. “So, Mad Dog… how are you and Yahaba?” he asked conversationally, but the question made me grit my teeth.

“If you think the same thing that Iwaizumi does, I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled, turning my head and making Oikawa click his tongue at the sudden movement.

“If you don’t want me to accidentally cut off your ear, then don’t move,” Oikawa insisted, making me look forward again before resuming his snipping. I scowled at the mirror in front of us. “Anyways, what did Iwaizumi have to say about it that’s got you so mad, hmm?” he asked lightly. His voice was too high, _too innocent_ , to be real, and I knew he was fishing for information that would prove Iwaizumi right.

“Like you don’t know already,” I spat, “because I’m sure you two share everything.”

“Like beds?” Oikawa asked, too quickly, and he laughed at his own little joke. My face was on fire.

“Like gossip,” I ground out, clenching my fists at my sides.

“Suspicions are going to be swarming you once you become Kentarou, so you better get used to it,” Oikawa said, finishing up with my hair and giving me a once over.

“I’m pretty sure not those kinds of suspicions-”

“Precisely those suspicions,” Oikawa said, snatching the towel off my chest and shaking it out before throwing it over my head.

“HEY!” I yelled, flailing to get the towel off, as he started rubbing at my head vigorously.

“And…” he sang, holding the word out for as long as possible, “there!” he finished, throwing the towel off with a flourish.

“Asshole!” I muttered, rubbing at my head and noticing that my hair was much shorter than it was before. And evenly cut. _Dammit, what can’t this guy do?_

“I will mess up your hair if you keep using vulgarities,” Oikawa threatened, grabbing one of the jugs in front of him and a rag. “Princes are supposed to know when to hold their tongue. Unfortunately, that can’t be taught to you unless there’s some already-existing self-restraint…”

“Just get my stupid hair done,” I said, rolling my eyes at him. He grinned at me.

“And such short temper,” he mocked, pouting exaggeratingly at me. “Maybe I should get Yahaba in here to calm you down.”

“I don’t have to listen to him. Or you,” I argued.

“Yet, you’re still sitting in that chair, waiting for me to help you,” he said, dipping the rag into the jug and placing it on my head. Something seeped from the cloth and through my hair, making me flinch at the sensation. “It’s only dye. Relax,” Oikawa muttered as he continued dipping the rag in the jug and pressing it onto my hair.

I should have listened to him, just this once, because waiting for the dye to set in took forever. After he was done blotting my hair, he made me sit there with the dye in my hair for who-the-fuck-knows how long. It was boring, sitting stiff like that, with weirdly acidic stuff in my hair. Oikawa had no trouble hovering around, though, talking away about this and that, although I wasn’t paying too much attention.

I was too busy not thinking about the fact that both Iwaizumi and Oikawa thought that I liked Yahaba, and not thinking back to the little hint that Oikawa dropped that basically said that he knew that we slept in the same bed last night. I totally wasn’t thinking about that, or Yahaba’s stupid face and how he pisses me off so much that I kind of want to wipe that satisfied smirk off his face whenever he gets what he wants. Like I would think about _him_. He was nothing. Nothing important, anyways. I’ll be prince after this, and I’ll never have to see him again.

 _Good fucking riddance_.

By the time Oikawa rinsed off my hair one last time, my neck and back were swore from sitting down for so long. Getting that weird-smelling stuff off felt good, and I dried my hair thankfully. After, though, Oikawa stared at me with his crooked index finger trapped between his teeth, trying to hide an odd smile.

“What?” I snapped.

“You look just like him,” he said, waving his hand a little bit and directing me to the mirror. “Now, am I good, or what?” he asked, standing by proudly as I crept closer to the mirror, eyes wide.

I was _blonde_. My hair was short and yellow, and there were two stripes above my ears that wrapped around my head, or at least I assumed so. At first I thought they were mistakes, but the clean, straight lines couldn’t have be luck. I was the same. I was different. I was weird.

Because my reflection, for the first time, finally felt _right_.

My hand reached out in front of me, about to touch the mirror, just to make sure this was real, because there was no way that a reflection could make you feel like you found yourself, when something pulled the bathroom door open.

“Oikawa? There you are! We were looking for-” Yahaba asked, looking relieved when he spotted Oikawa, but he cut himself off with a small gasp when he saw me. “ _Kentarou_?” His voice sounded shaky.

I instantly turned around, and was just about to go to him, before I stopped myself. _What am I doing?_ “I guess I must really look like him, huh?” I asked, looking from Yahaba to Oikawa with a neutral expression. I was only trying to remind myself that the person in the mirror _wasn’t me_ , wasn’t who I was, because I was a street rat from the orphanage, not some high-and-mighty prince with a dye job.

“I… I’m sorry, I… can’t…” Yahaba choked out, before running out of the room. A second later, the door slammed shut.

“What the hell was that all about?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at Oikawa.

“I did a good job…” Oikawa said, distantly, as he looked out the bathroom door. He seemed to sap out of it a second later, because he was smiling and slipping his arm across my shoulders once more. “Come, let’s show Iwaizumi what a good job I did!” he exclaimed, leading me out of his quarters.

We found him by the stables, playing with that annoying dog, and when he looked up and saw me, he stood immediately, stiff as a board and head held high. I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, confusion giving my voice an edge, and Iwaizumi relaxed.

“Reflex. Sorry. You look good. Oikawa did… a decently good job,” he said, choosing his words carefully with a side-eyed glance at Oikawa.

“Decent?! This is by far the best work I’ve ever done, thank you! The color is even and, have you seen those lines? Perfectly straight! It wasn’t easy, you know?!” Oikawa ranted, gripping Iwaizumi’s arm tightly and pointing wildly at my hair all the while.

“I know that,” Iwaizumi said, prying the man off him, “but if I said that, you would be preening like a peacock.”

“I do not preen-!”

“Yes you do,” Iwaizumi and I said at the same time. We both looked at each other and laughed loudly.

“That’s not fair! You two ganging up on me like that!” Oikawa whined. The dog barked at him, and he bent down to give it attention.

“Where’s Yahaba?” Iwaizumi asked, giving me a look. I rolled my eyes at him.

“He ran off,” I answered, not looking at him.

“Ran off?”

“Mad Dog really does look like Kentarou, don’t you agree, Iwaizumi?” Oikawa perked up, giving the dog one last pet. Honestly, I was just glad it was ignoring me. Iwaizumi nodded slowly. “Yahaba thought so too, apparently,” he added.

“How do you know? He didn’t say anything,” I refuted, folding my arms across my chest. My tunic was still a bit damp, but it didn’t bother me much.

“He didn’t have to,” Oikawa replied, giving me a softened look, before reaching out and smacking my hands lightly. “Don’t do that. When you’re dressed properly, you’ll wrinkle everything, and then how are we going to present you to the rest of the nobles?”

“If they can’t handle a fucking wrinkle, then they can’t handle advising a king, who probably has better things to worry about than wrinkles,” I said, tucking my thumbs in the waistband of the pants instead.

“He has a point,” Iwaizumi said.

“Wrinkles aside, it’s not proper,” Oikawa said, glaring at the two of us halfheartedly. “The way you carry yourself says a lot about who you are, or, well, who you think you are,” he amended quickly, eyes flicking to Iwaizumi.

“So what? More platters on my head?” I asked.

“Well, your balance is severely lacking, but that technique obviously had no effect on you.” Oikawa gestured to the way I was standing. I shrugged.

“How about we make things more interesting?” Iwaizumi suggested. “Every time you slouch, or cross your arms, or do… that, you have to run a lap around the castle.”

“Iwa! That’s not-!”

“What’s your fastest time? Around the castle, I mean,” I demanded, knowing the bait he set and knowing that I fell right into his plot. It didn’t really matter all that much.

“You know he’s just going to slouch more now-”

“I’ll tell you when you’re close.”

“Are you even listening to me?!”

“What happens if I beat your time?” I demanded, straightening up a little bit and unhooking my thumbs from my pants.

“Then the competition goes to climbing the castle walls.”

“You can do that too?!”

“Of course.”

“Iwa, you’re not helping!” Oikawa said, pulling at his sleeve and giving him a hard look. Iwaizumi looked a little shocked at Oikawa’s outburst, but put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder in reassurance.

“Don’t worry. If he does any of this purposefully, he has to duel with me,” he says, before shifting his attention back to me, “with real blades. And I won’t show mercy.” I nodded tersely.

“So devious, Iwa,” Oikawa said, snickering behind the palm of his hand. Iwaizumi shoved his shoulder.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent walking around, trying my best to match Oikawa’s posture and steady stride. It was easy to slip into, but just as easy to slip out of, so by the time it was dinner, I had already done seven laps around the castle. None of them were fast enough to even come close to Iwaizumi’s time, or so he says.

I followed the two of them to the dining hall for dinner, keeping my shoulders back and my chin high like they showed me. I thought it was all stupid, because I wouldn’t trust someone who walked like they had a stick shoved up their ass all the time. I only tried because Iwaizumi said that, if I didn’t, he’d fight me with his sword. A sharpened one. With no mercy.

I like my head, I think I’ll keep it.

When we neared the dining hall, Yahaba was already waiting outside the doors. He leaned against the wall slightly, his hands folded behind his back.

“Yahaba! There you are!” Oikawa said as he saw him. Yahaba straightened up immediately, his hands fists at his sides. His eyes were red.

_What the hell? What the fuck was his problem? Why the hell did he disappear for so long? Why was he crying? He only started being like this after I got the haircut. So why in all hell is he acting like this? It was a fucking haircut, and so what I look more like the prince? It’s just another step towards me out of his life-_

“Sorry, I realized I promised the wait staff that I would search the castle for a missing pitcher,” he mumbled, bowing slightly to Oikawa. The noble was about to clap him on the shoulder when I clicked my tongue.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked.

“What? Something’s wrong with me because I help out around here?” Yahaba pressed.

“No, something’s wrong with you because you’re _lying_ ,” I spat in reply, and Iwaizumi squeezed my shoulder.

“There will be plenty of time to argue later. But for now, let’s eat,” Iwaizumi suggested, and we all nodded.

Dinner was uneventful. It was hard trying to not hunch over my food. It was hard seeing Yahaba barely pick at his food the whole time. It was hard to feel Oikawa and Iwaizumi staring at us both.

Honestly, it was a relief when Oikawa dismissed me, and _only_ me, to my room.

When I got there, I slammed the door behind me, kicked off my shoes, and headed straight for the window. I pushed it open, and wasted no time in latching onto the window’s top frame and muscling my way up. I paused when I was on a stable foothold, and looked out to the sunset. The clouds were the most interesting, looking like cotton balls spread across the sky and dipped in purple dye.

I got to the ledge above my window and, after pulling myself up, sat on the edge of it. I let my legs swing as a watched the last of the sun slip away.

I didn’t want to think about anything, but I did. Iwaizumi’s voice kept floating in and out of my head, and Yahaba’s face when he saw me in Oikawa’s quarters gnawed at my stomach in the worst way. Everything should have been simple, just a fake prince being prepared to take the throne and rule the kingdom, but it all went to shit. But why? I don’t even like him, he was just someone I was forced to spend time with, despite the fact that I didn’t really hate it, and that I didn’t really protest to him touching me all sometimes, and that I went along with, but didn’t really disagree, to sleeping in the same bed as him last night, and that I didn’t hate the warmth he left behind-

No. None of that matter, or it shouldn’t matter. But it did and it fucked everything up. I held my head in my hands and sighed. I don’t know how much time passed before…

“Mad Dog!” I heard someone call distantly from my open window. I looked over the ledge, to see Yahaba leaning out of the window, looking down at the grounds. It was a second before he looked up, and nearly teetered out of the window in shock when he saw me on the ledge. “Get down from there! Oikawa’s going to be pissed, you know!” he called, an edge of worry in his voice as he spoke, and I only rolled my eyes.

“Like he fucking cares,” I sighed under my breath before shimmying off the ledge and hanging off it with my hands before latching onto the wall and making my descent. Yahaba took a step back from the window as I dangled in front of it, and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow as I swung and hopped back inside the room.

“You’re probably going to get yourself killed one of these days, you know that, right?” he asked me. I only rolled my eyes at him once more, only this time he could see it. He clicked his tongue at me, his eyes hardening it glare for one second, before grabbing something off the bed and throwing it in my direction. “Just get ready for bed,” he said shortly, turning away and heading towards the chair. I didn’t move. He noticed, by that point, and gave me a look. “What?”

“You’re not sleeping?” I asked, gripping the clothes he threw at me a little tighter. They weren’t my old clothes, but they were something just as broken-in and soft.

“No,” he replied, “last night was a mistake. You get your rest.”

“You know I’m not,” I said, frowning. “I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.”

“I’m fine-”

“And you’ll be better if you sleep in the bed.”

“You don’t understand-”

“No, I don’t, because no one fucking tells me anything!” I said. “But I don’t need to know. Take the bed.”

“Oikawa will kill me if I let you sleep on the floor, you know that, too,” Yahaba reasoned.

“Then we both sleep there, like yesterday.” I said, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door behind me, done with the conversation.

It was stupid. It was a mistake, but it was a mistake that’ll never be made again. I’ll be as far away from him as possible. It was the most reasonable solution to all of this, so there was no point in arguing.

I changed angrily, pulling off my clothes and throwing them into a corner of the bathroom before pulling on the new pajamas. When I walked back into the room, Yahaba was hovering near the side of the bed, already dressed in a pair of pajamas. How he changed so quickly, or where, I will never know.

I didn’t look at him as I walked over, and we both tucked ourselves on opposite side of the bed, like yesterday. I wrapped myself up in the blanket I usually picked, and curled in on myself, facing the wall with the window. I couldn’t feel him on the other side of me, the warmth of yesterday gone, and I didn’t know I that was a good thing or not.

“Good night Mad Dog,” he muttered.

“Yeah, night,” I mumbled back, closing my eyes and trying my hardest to sleep. But I was restless, my mind racing and my heart beating too fast. I couldn’t hear Yahaba’s breathing, and I wondered if he was breathing at all. I didn’t check.

The wall became boring enough in a while, and I fell asleep halfway through my attempt at memorizing the brick patterns on the wall.

* * *

I woke up to the first rays of sunshine burning my eyelids and an intense need to go to the bathroom. My eyes were barely open when I tried to roll out of bed and found myself unable to.

An arm was thrown haphazardly over my waist, my tunic hiked up just slightly so skin was touching skin, a chin was tucked on top of my head, and knees were pressed into the back of mine. It was _warm_ and it was _Yahaba_ and it kind of felt _good_ and it needed to _stop_.

I tried slipping away from him again, but this time, his arm tightened its hold, his fingers pressing into the side of my stomach. I jerked, and redoubled my efforts.

“What the shit, Yahaba? Get off of-!”

“Kentarou…” Yahaba muttered sleepily, nuzzling the top of my head. “Ken, just a little longer…”

I froze for a second. ‘ _Ken_ ’ sounded way too familiar.

“Okay, what the fuck?” I yelled, kicking at his shins behind me and rolling off the bed. I fell on the floor just as Yahaba woke up with a yelp.

“Ow! Mad Dog, what the hell?!”

“Why the fuck were you mumbling the prince’s name and cuddling me in your sleep!?” I asked, well, practically yelled. He gave me a confused glance, before shaking it off his face and replacing it with a scowl.

“I didn’t yell at you when you practically used me as a human pillow the other night!” Yahaba argued.

“It’s different when you’re muttering _someone’s name_ in my ear!” I spat back. He was about to say something, when he shut his mouth and his cheeks turned red. “What? Did you have a crush on him or something?”

“Don’t talk about stupid things you don’t even know!” Yahaba yelled.

“So you _did_ have a crush on him!”

“I didn’t have a crush on him, I had a crush on you!” he shouted, without thinking. It showed in his eyes the moment he realized what he said, and he looked away from me quickly.

“What the hell are you playing at? You didn’t know me until-”

“Don’t you get it?” Yahaba asked, his voice small, the shift so sudden, it shut me up. “You _are_ the prince.”

“No! No, I’m not!” I argued back, even as a flood of memories clouded my vision. All the times where things were easy to fall into, the times where I was doing things right without knowing it, the reflection in the mirror finally looking familiar, the strange rationale that Yahaba was okay for contact but no one else, finally, finally, made sense. “Why the fuck did no one tell me?!”

“We didn’t know, okay?!” Yahaba said, disentangling himself out of the bed and reaching out towards me. I smacked his hand away.

“ _You_ knew! You knew who I was!”

“Who you _are_ , Kyoutani,” Yahaba revised delicately. He tried reaching out for me again, but this time I took a step back, shaking my head.

I don’t remember moving, but I remember running through the castle, tears streaming down my face, Yahaba calling after me.

I didn’t stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooh this endign sucks. im sorry!  
> thank you so much for reading! tell me what you think!!  
> have a good day, and stay safe, and know that i love you!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, guys! Here's this is!

Once upon a time, in a castle not too unfamiliar, there lived a king and queen, along with their two sons. The eldest son, the heir to the throne, received most of the attention from the king and queen, their efforts going into making him a fair, level-headed, suitable successor once the king stepped down. The crowned prince was smart, elegant on his feet and with his tongue, and was kind to the very core.

As the eldest prince prepared to take the throne even at an early age, consequently, the youngest son was left to himself. Without the amount of undivided, unasked for, attention from the king and queen that his brother received, the younger prince quickly decided that causing havoc would draw their attention to him. He knocked down vases that were in the elegant corridors, allowed the herding dogs to enter the castle and wreak chaos, and even figured out how to escape from his window and climb around the perimeter of the castle walls.

These stunts did nothing more than irritate the king, and to appease her husband, the queen allowed one of their closest regents to live in the castle to help guide the younger prince. The regent brought along two others, a man about the regent’s age and a boy the same age as the youngest son, convincing the king and queen that the more support the younger prince had, the better.

The prince and the regent’s boy became fast friends, never leaving each other’s side. The regent and the other man helped them as much as they could, teaching them how to read, write, and how to do a plethora of other things despite their young ages.

No matter how close the four of them became, the prince still acted out. The final straw was when the prince demanded that the regent dyed his hair in an unusual pattern. Unable to refuse him, the regent obliged, dying the prince’s hair a bright blond and leaving two stripes of his originally brown hair wrapping around the back of his head.

Furious, the king threatened to send the younger prince away, but at the suggestion of the queen, who genuinely loved her son and wanted the best for him, he settled to widen the array of his classes. The goal was to challenge the younger prince, so much so that all his energy was spent so he couldn’t act out. The prince excelled in every challenge the king forced upon him; he bested his original teacher in swordsmanship, rode horseback with just as much grace as his elder brother, and could act perfectly well any time necessary.

However, these new skills were naturally used to the prince’s advantage. He used his effortless skill with the sword against his brother, dueling him constantly and winning, causing many to question the ineptitude of the crowned prince. When he no longer saw the fun in that, he started training with his left hand. The prince started creating wild tricks while on horseback, balancing on the saddle of one and even hopping onto another horse’s back while his own was sprinting. The prince also exploited his perfect manners during their appearances to the regents; he would stand perfectly next to his brother until his father’s eyes were on something else, and then make rude faces and hand gestures behind his back for all the regents to see.

Enraged, not even the queen could stop the king from packing the prince’s things and sending him away. The king hoped that, by sending him to a boarding school on the other side of the kingdom, the prince would learn how to behave properly and come home grateful of the life he was given.

The prince and the regent’s boy were separated tearfully, clutching at each other’s tunics in a last-ditch effort to stay together. In the end, the boy ended up crying into the regent’s expensive clothes as the prince was ridden out of the castle in a carriage, his yells and protests fading the farther they went.

Halfway to their destination, the prince’s carriage was ransacked, attacked by violent thugs who out for blood and riches. The carriage was burned beyond recognition, and when word of its destruction made its way to the royal family, they were devastated. A search party was employed to find the prince, but he was never found and the wreckage made them assume he also perished in the attack.

However, the prince _lived_. When the horses were slaughtered and the man directing the carriage was fatally injured, the prince climbed out of the carriage and ran into the forest surrounding him. Thankfully, his escape went unnoticed, although he did witness the burning of the carriage when he was a suitable distance away. The smoke rose high into the air, and the smell almost made him gag.

The prince kept fleeing in the way they came, hoping to see something familiar and find his way back to the royal castle. But, as he was running down a woodsy hill, he tripped, tumbling down and hitting the back of his head on a boulder. He lost consciousness at the impact, and didn’t wake up until sunset that night. Disoriented, he stumbled his way to the nearest town, and met a kind lady who directed him to the village’s orphanage…

* * *

“MAD DOG!”

I could hear the desperation in the voice pursuing me, but I couldn’t make myself face the owner of it. I continued to run, memories flashing behind my eyes as tears filled them. I ran past the stables, the dog barking at me as I did so. I didn’t stop. _Couldn’t_ stop. How could I turn around and face them?

 _I’m the prince_. I couldn’t stop the thought from popping into my mind. _Kentarou_. The name made me choke on my own breath.

 I kept running until I found myself in the forest, my feet crunching the leaves left by the trees and trampling over fallen branches that snapped noisily under me. I couldn’t breathe, could barely see, and didn’t know where I was going. There was a stitch in my side, one that felt like a dagger through my ribs that burned every time I gasped for air. I didn’t stop.

“MAD DOG! WAIT!”

How could I? _I was the prince_. There was a reason why everything felt familiar, why I tolerated, even liked Yahaba’s- _Shigeru’s_ \- touch, why I was so good with a sword, why Oikawa knew how to dye my hair, why I could ride horses even though I was terrified…

And… _oh gods_ … Oikawa, and Iwaizumi and Shigeru… they were more family to me than my own, and I treated them like shit. I gave Oikawa shit for everything he ever did to help me, I fought Iwaizumi with the intent to best him, I… _oh gods_ , all I ever did was hate Shigeru, yell at him and give him hell and push him away…

How could I face them now? _How?_ After being such an asshole, after forgetting everything they’ve ever done for me, after forgetting years and years of comfortability and warmth and comfort and _love_ … How could I apologize? How could I face them and tell them I was sorry, tell them that I didn’t mean it, tell them that I _tried_ , tried _so hard_ to come back before I forgot everything, cried for them while trying to get away from the smell of the burning carriage?

The tears were running down my face, dripping off my chin and falling sometimes on my tunic, other times on the forest floor. I realized the noises in the background were my sobs. My knees buckled, tired, and I tripped. Tucked, rolled, collapsed to the floor in a heap, too _weak_ , too _hurt_ , too _stupid_ to get up again.

“MAD DOG! PLEASE! JUST A SECOND!” Shigeru was closer now, and I wanted to run, wanted to get away from everything. Maybe go back to the orphanage. _Would it be better than facing them?_

I was so ashamed. They knew who I was and they put up with it, and I still didn’t know, was too stupid to know, was too much of an idiot to see who I really was and the connections between then and now. I was ashamed that I forgot the faces of the people that loved me the most, forgot the happiest memories, forgot the fact that these people, out of the kindness of their hearts, _loved me_ and _cared for me_ and _gave me a home_ in a place where I was an outsider…

I curled in on myself, my knees tucking up to my chest and an arm wrapping around my shins. Bits of leaves and dirt pressed into the side of my face on the forest floor, but I didn’t mind. I deserved to be dirty, to be left here in this forest and never found again. _How could I have been so stupid…?_

Shigeru crashed through the trees surrounding me a second later, mouth open to call out once again, before spotting me on the floor. Our eyes met. I tucked my face in, hiding it behind my knees.

Leaves rustled next to me less than a second later, and I could feel Shigeru’s presence radiating off him. I curled up further, wanting the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

“Go…” I pleaded, hating how weak I sounded, how my voice betrayed me with shakiness.

“Mad Dog… you don’t have to-” Shigeru said softly, and a hand lightly touched my head, fingers running through my short hair. I flinched, not expecting it, not accepting it, not deserving the kind touch he gave me.

“No! Please…” I begged, keeping my eyes shut and trying as hard as I could to keep it away, keep it all away.

“We aren’t mad, Kentarou,” Shigeru mumbled sincerely, using my name. _My name_. Something broke, something near my heart, and a strangled sob ripped through my throat. “We have no reason to be mad…” he whispered.

“Well, I do!” I yelled. I turned around, away from him, and sat up. I pawed at my eyes until I could see a bit better. I didn’t think I had any more tears to cry. “I forgot… _everything_. Why didn’t I remember? I treated you guys like shit, all of you, _especially_ you, and I shouldn’t have. Why are you still here? Why are you still trying to help me? Even after all the bullshit I put you through!?”

A hand was placed on my shoulder, someone sniffing loudly next to me. I didn’t flinch, not this time.

“We’re your family, no matter how much bullshit you put us through,” Shigeru said, a shaky laugh following his tear-filled voice. “And… look, M- Ken, you didn’t know. There was no way you could have known. We aren’t mad. You don’t have to blame yourself for something you couldn’t help-”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t blame myself,” I muttered, wiping at my face some more. His thumb rubbed a slow, small circle into my shoulder.

“Oikawa and Iwaizumi didn’t have a problem with it. The way you acted, I mean,” Shigeru said, shuffling a little bit so he was sitting next to me instead of slightly behind. His hand slipped from my shoulder closest to him to the opposite. I let him pull me a little closer. I didn’t look at him. I stared at a bunch of leaves near my foot. “I think, after we all figured it out, that we thought that it would take some time for you to remember. I shouldn’t have said anything. You would have figured it out on your own time. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for…” I murmured. “I wouldn’t have known. I knew things were familiar, like…” I was going to say like his arm around my shoulders now, but I stopped myself. “I just didn’t know where I knew them from. But I didn’t recognize any of you…”

“It’s not your fault,” he said lightly.

“Yes it is!” I yelled, inching away from him and getting out from under his arm. It felt like something was missing when his arm returned into his side. He sighed.

“We should get back. Oikawa and Iwaizumi will get worried.”

I wanted to tell him that I couldn’t go back, not like this. I couldn’t face Oikawa, couldn’t tell him sorry. It wouldn’t sound sincere. I don’t know what my plan was, but I definitely didn’t plan on returning. But when Shigeru got to his feet and held out his hand, I reacted on instinct, grabbing his hand immediately and letting him help me to my feet.

The walk back was silent. I hung back a couple steps from Shigeru, looking at my feet and refusing to look at the castle. I could tell he was looking at me over his shoulder, fixing me with worried glances that burned more than any flame, but I didn’t meet his eye. He said it wasn’t my fault, but how could it not be?

Two more sets of footsteps joined ours, coming closer, and I froze. Didn’t look up. Balled my hands into fists.

“Mad Dog, what-?”

“He knows.”

I didn’t look up at the short conversation. I recognized the concern in Oikawa’s voice; it was the same tone from all those years ago, the one he used after my father’s rants about me, my tears refusing to fall until we were far enough away and he hugged me tight until I felt safe from the rage of the king.

Things never change, because there were more footsteps until I saw the tips of his expensive shoes in my field of vision. There was a pause, a hesitation, I knew, and the next second he pulled me towards him, arms wrapping around my torso and his chin fitting at the top of my head. I broke, unexpected tears running down my face as I hugged him back, shifted so that my face was buried in his shoulder. I had a death grip on the back of his tunic, and he was rubbing my back gently, just like he used to.

“You’re okay… it’s alright…”

“I’m s-sorry… I-I’m so sorry…”

“We’re not upset, everything’s okay, you’re going to be fine…”

“I tried-! I tried g-getting back…”

“I know… I know…”

“I treated you like shit… I didn’t give a damn and I-I’m… I’m so sorry…”

“Kentarou, it’s okay… breathe…”

I obeyed, sucking in air shakily, and tried my best to regain my composure. I was shaking all over, my shoulders racking with every short gasp I tried to get, and it was a while before I could let go of him. When I did, his light brown eyes were ringed with red, his own tear tracks carving their way down his face. He gave me a watery smile, laughed, and ruffled my hair. I let him, and let out a thin laugh of my own.

Iwaizumi showed up at Oikawa’s side, hands pressed to his hips and a pleased expression on his face.

“You _knew_. You _always_ knew,” he said, with all the confidence in the world. The thin smile fell off my face, and I looked at him curiously, fearfully. “If you hadn’t, you would have given Oikawa a hell of a lot more trouble than you have already,” he said, his smile widening. A strange sort of chuckle fell out of my mouth when he lunged forward, slinging an arm around me as he ground his knuckles to the top of my head. “Plus,” he ground out, feigning anger, “you knew all my tricks!”

I wrestled out of his grip, panting a little when he relented, and smiled up at him. Oikawa latched onto his forearm, hugging it before slipping his hand down to grip at his. When they looked at each other, there was nothing but love. I normally would have thrown up, but I was so happy, so relieved, so… light, that it didn’t bother me much.

“Hey,” Shigeru said, nudging at my elbow, “there’s breakfast waiting for us.” I only nodded, not sure if I trusted my voice just yet.

The walk to the dining hall was quiet, and I guess it wouldn’t have bothered be so much if dread hadn’t been pooling in the pit of my stomach. It was stupid, because there was nothing for me to dread, they said it was okay, that I was okay, that no one was upset. They said it over and over, so there shouldn’t have been anything to worry about. I should feel relieved, happy even.

Maybe it was because I knew that happiness always came to an end; everything good in my life flitted away in the blink of an eye, too brief to hold on to it and too long to claim it never happened.

“Ken,” Shigeru muttered, nudging my arm slightly, and breaking me out of the stupid little reverie I was in.

“What?” I tried to growl, but my voice came out shakily instead, still raw from crying so much.

I hated it.

Shigeru only smiled gently at me, before shaking his head and looking away. The expression was a new one for me, because he never looked at me that way before. No, he never looked _Mad Dog_ like that before. _Kentarou_ got tons of those looks. But, then again. I guess I wasn’t Mad Dog anymore; I was always Kentarou, but I just never knew it. There was no reason for him to look at Mad Dog like that, but Kentarou had all the reason in the world, with all the memories and emotions and history wrapped up with him- _me_.

When we got to the dining hall, Oikawa clicked his tongue.

“This is not fitting for the occasion,” he whined, setting his hands on his hips. The hall looked like it always did: long table, elegant table cloth, candelabras, high-backed chairs, delicately designed plates and cutlery. But apparently, it wasn’t enough.

“It’s fine,” I muttered, clearing my throat afterwards to chase away what was left of the weakness there.

“We’ll have something more elegant for dinner, I’m sure,” Shigeru said, rolling his eyes discreetly at the man’s antics before moving past him towards the table. I followed along, slipping into his seat before he could. He made an exasperated sound, and looked at me, eyes narrowed. I raised my eyebrows at him, almost daring him to ask me what I was doing. He sighed, and took Iwaizumi’s seat without question.

I didn’t deserve the spot next to Oikawa, anyways.

Breakfast was eaten in silence. I didn’t dare to say anything, didn’t dare to break the silence with anything more than a scrape of my fork against my plate. There was nothing to say, nothing I wanted to say, that would help.

I was still poking at my eggs when Oikawa’s fork clattered against his plate (purposely, I’d bet, because he would never do something as rude as that on his own accord). My attention snapped up, and looked at him with wide eyes. The only other time I heard something being dropped was at the orphanage, as the keeper dropped everything the moment I walked in in order for his hands to be free when he deals with me.

But this wasn’t the orphanage. _This would never be the orphanage_. The thought made me breathe a bit easier.

“Kentarou, do you mind coming with me back to my quarters?” he asked pleasantly, a slightly smile at his lips. “I’m sure we have much to discuss in the light of recent events.” I nodded, shifting my attention back to my eggs until I heard the legs of his chair scrape against the floor. I eased out of my chair, and gave a slight glance to Shigeru and Iwaizumi before I turned. Shigeru mouthed a silent _‘good luck’_ while Iwaizumi only smirked at me. I gulped, hoping they wouldn’t catch on, before following Oikawa out of the dining hall.

Oikawa rambled on about something or other, but I wasn’t listening. I was staring at the toes on my feet as I walked. It hit me that I was still in my pajamas, the slightly better-looking ones Yahab- _Shigeru_ handed me last night, before all this happened. I suddenly wanted to change, but somewhere I knew that it didn’t bother Oikawa in the least.

He must have sensed my brief moment of unease, because he clapped a hand on my shoulder and didn’t remove it until he led me into his quarters.

“So,” he said briskly, once he was settled in the chair across from me, “I’m assuming you have some questions that you would like answers-”

“Why didn’t you tell me when you suspected me of actually being the prince?” I blurted, the first thing on my tongue, still not understanding any of their logic. He opened his mouth to answer. I cut him off. “Did all of you guys know? Since when did you know? How? Why did you pick me if you didn’t know for sure? Why did you still care for me like you knew who I was when you didn’t? Why-?”

“Slow down!” he said, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth as he waved his hands in wide arcs. “One at a time, Kentarou, I can’t keep up!” I frowned slightly, but let him recover a little from laughing.

“The first one, then,” I demanded.

“Why didn’t I tell you?” he asked for clarification. “They were only suspicions, and I didn’t know how far your memory went. If I told you that you were the prince, you would have laughed in my face, and everything would have been worse. I figured you would figure out on your own when the time came. How did you figure it out, exactly?”

“My questions first,” I said, looking at my feet. That was a question I didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to explain. I didn’t know if I had the right to explain all that, what with Shigeru-

The full memory fell on top of me. _Shigeru liked me_. I shook my head. _Past tense. Things have changed. Forget it._

“Ah, very well,” Oikawa said, leaning back slightly and lifting a leg to settle his ankle on his opposite knee. “First, we all had our suspicions, although they were solidified by your outperformance of Iwaizumi on your first day of swordsmanship training.”

“How? Even when I was the prince, I never fought Iwaizumi-”

“That doesn’t matter. But remember, we knew you personally. We knew your immense skill with the sword. You know how powerful Iwaizumi can be, I’m sure, so you being able to outperform him in the first day was alarming.” Oikawa explained, and I nodded slowly when he gave me a look. He took a deep breath before continuing. “As far as initially decided with you, it was based on instinct alone. Talking to the keeper, you sounded the exact opposite of the prince, but he said something that caught my attention. He said you never let him touch the others.”

“He would beat us for every little thing, there was no way that I could let him hurt those-”

“You saved that servant from being beat by your father, if you would care to remember.” I did. I remembered every last detail. My father anger, the spilled water, the servant’s fear, the rod my father carried around risen on instinct, and then… pushing the servant out of the way and taking the blow instead. Yelling at my father in the middle of dinner for something as petty as water. I got another hit, and was sent to my quarters after. “Looks change, attitudes warp, and yet integrity never seems to change,” Oikawa says thoughtfully, and I have to roll my eyes.

“That’s bullshit,” I muttered, something like a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Oikawa leaned forward and flicked my forehead before shifting back into his previous position.

“And your mouth has never been dirtier. Act like the prince you are, for a change!” he reprimanded.

“Why change all of a sudden?” I asked. “This whole thing is still pretty confusing,” I said. Does he know how hard it is, how surreal it is, having two separate sets of memories from the same eyes, but with difference perceptions? I barely knew who I was anymore, Mad Dog, Kentarou, or a mix between both?

“Adjusting takes time as well. We will account for that before we present you to the nobles,” he noted, almost to himself as he presses the tips of his fingers together, his palms pressed against each other. “Your last question also ties to why I chose you despite not knowing,” he adds.

“Huh?”

“Why I treated you the same as if I knew who you were. It was your looks, Kentarou,” he says, shifting so that both his feet were on the ground now. “Call it sentimentality, but the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t leave you there. You looked so much like him, albeit tired and dirty and _thin_ , but I didn’t know how I would live with myself if I left you there, knowing that you looked so much like the person we were all missing.”

“You didn’t miss me.” How could they? It was years after I supposedly died, they would have gotten over it by then. And besides, I forgot all about them, why would it pain them to remember me?

“You were a part of our family, too,” Oikawa said with a sad smile. “Losing someone important to you is never easy.”

I had to look away from him, turning my attention to his desk nearby. People came and went, but I never thought them important, never invested in anyone enough for it to hurt. Sure, I’d protect those boys at the orphanage, but that was _right_ , that was… _different_ than losing someone you loved. Like what Oikawa and Iwaizumi and Shigeru and… my parents and my brother had to go through when they thought I died.

Somewhere in my chest, it felt like a cave collapsed with the reality that my family was dead. My parents were killed for power, and my brother was killed for insurance. I knew I should miss them, knew I should cry or feel something other than a vague sense of something missing or impending responsibility.

“Do you have any more questions?” Oikawa asked, and I shook my head. “Then let’s move on to my question, yes?”

“No,” I mumbled, the sound just barely escaping my lips. I was sure he didn’t hear it. I peeked over at him, and he was looking at me expectantly. I sighed, turning back to look at him. “Long answer or short?” I asked, hoping for a way out of describing the events of the morning.

“Hmm…. Short,” Oikawa chose, and I relaxed a little.

“Y- Shi- Yahaba said something, and then he told me. I didn’t get it until I remembered… and then I ran,” I explained, stumbling over what to call him and what words to say. My hands were fists at my sides, tense, wanting to leave. _Why, Oikawa? Why this? Don’t make me_ -

“Ah,” the noble said, almost as if he got it. I almost let out the breath I was holding, but then he opened his mouth again. “That doesn’t explain anything at all! Long version!”

“You said you wanted the short version!” I protested, feeling something rise at the back of my throat. Maybe it was uncertainty.

“I changed my mind,” he said haughtily, looking down at me, his nose in the air.

“You can’t expect me to just pour out my soul!”

“Why spill your soul when you’re only recounting the events of this morning?” Oikawa asked, tilting his head to the side, and I knew I was caught. He knew something he didn’t want me to know. _Fuck_. I looked away, unable to hold his gaze or control the burn on my cheeks.

“Yahaba and I… had an agreement,” I started off, still looking away. “I didn’t like him staying up all night to watch me, and he said he would get in trouble if he let me sleep on the floor so…” I said, glancing at him quickly to gauge his reaction so far. He was smiling gently. Fuck him. “We shared the bed.”

“This only happened once?” Oikawa questioned. I shot him a glare and continued.

“This morning, I heard him muttering the prince’s… well, _my name_ in his sleep, and so I woke up and he woke up and we both got mad and then….”

“Then?”

“Accusations were made.”

“Accusations?”

“Shut up,” I snapped. “He told me that I was the prince and then I ran. The end.” I exhaled sharply out of my nose, hating all of this. I was sure there were little indents where my nails dug into my palms. My feet were cold on the marble floor.

“Are you sure you told me everything?” Oikawa asked gently.

“Yes,” I ground out, baring my teeth slightly. This was getting on my nerves. I did not want to relive this, didn’t want to say what Yahaba said, or mention the position we were in this morning… I didn’t even want to think about it. Not at all. There was no point on dwelling on it at all, so why was-?

“Do you have any more questions?” Oikawa asked briskly, his voice cool, collected. I blinked, and shook my head. “Find Iwaizumi, then,” he said, waving a hand at me. I nodded once, before getting up and making my way to the door. I heard his heavy sigh.

“Oikawa?” I asked, not turning around to face him, staring at where my hand gripped the expensive doorknob.

“Hmm?”

“ _Thank you_ ,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear as I flung the door open and rushed my way out.

* * *

In the next twenty minutes or so, I couldn’t find Iwaizumi anywhere, so I decided to wander around. There was so many thing I could have done, like sneaking into sword room, or climbing around on the outside of the castle again, but instead, I found my feet taking me to the stables.

The horses looked bored, almost aimless, as they stood in their stalls. For a brief moment, I felt bad for them; it would fucking suck if I had to stand in one spot for most of the day.

Then again, that would be my life in the next couple weeks.

The horse that I usually rode recognized me, and snorted slightly, its head shaking. Its brown eyes were pinned to me, so I tried to make my way over to her without drawing any more attention to myself. I guess the horses didn’t really care about me being there, because they didn’t react, well, except the horse Yahaba usually rode, but that’s not important.

My horse shook its head again, this time letting out a little whinny, when I got close enough. I lifted my hand and inched my palm closer to her snout, and she instantly pressed closer. I smiled slightly as I pet her a little.

I was lost in thought, I guess, because the next thing I knew there was something sniffing at my hip and vibrating with happiness.

“ _Shit!_ ” I backed away from the dog, moving so fast that I tripped over my own feet and fell on my ass. The dog barked joyfully and my horse whickered at me, and I knew they were laughing. Assholes. The dog advanced, and I couldn’t scramble away fast enough before the dog stood over me and started licking my face excitedly. “No, n-! _Ew!_ Get off me, you stupid-!” A laughed bubbled out of my mouth as I tried to push the dog off me. I propped myself up on my elbows, the dog still over me, licking my face incessantly. “Fuck! Get away, you idiot!” I swore, laughs still pouring from my mouth.

I definitely didn’t like the thing, but its tongue felt funny. And its breath smelled and slobber was getting all over my front. The dog’s eagerness made me smile, mostly because no one’s ever been really excited to see me… until I came here, at least.

“I knew you didn’t hate that dog,” a voice said. I stopped my laughing, and the dog stopped its licking, as we both looked towards the door to the stables. Iwaizumi was standing there, resting his weight on a hip that was pressed to the doorframe. “You guys are cute. Yan, come!” he said, gesturing for the dog to come to him.

The dog abandoned me instantly, stepping on my stomach in its haste to get to Iwaizumi. I was breathless for a second, before I got to my feet.

“How did you know I would be in here?” I asked, taking a couple steps closer to him, wary of the dog sitting by his side and looking up at him with a smile on its face.

“I didn’t,” Iwaizumi said, scratching the dog’s head before patting it. “Why don’t we go for a ride, huh?” he suggested hands on his hips and smirk on his lips. I shrugged.

A couple minutes later, we were riding out of the stables and towards the outskirts of the castle’s perimeter. Seeing the outlining forest made me a little unease, thinking of my flight into them, but directing my horse was a lot more important than getting the hell away from there.

“Don’t worry about getting any questions from me,” Iwaizumi said, looking over his shoulder to regard me. I was about to ask why, when he continued: “I got the whole story from Yahaba.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So you know about-?”

“You two sharing a bed?” he questioned, and I nodded. “It’s a small detail. It doesn’t matter all that much. You think Oikawa and I don’t share a bed? It’s not a new concept,” he said, a little laugh at the edge of his voice. “Besides, it was Yahaba’s room before we brought you in.”

“It was?” _Great_ , now I felt like more of a jackass.

“He gave it up willingly, so don’t guilt trip yourself,” Iwaizumi clarified, waving a hand to clear the air of the situation.

Why was everyone so willing to drop everything for me? Even before they knew who I was, they were willing to give it all away; even if there was an abundance of everything else, they decided to give me theirs…

“I also know that he loved you-”

“L-Loved?”

“-but I knew that before this whole thing began. So did Oikawa.” Iwaizumi said, continuing like I never questioned his choice of words.

“H-How? I-I mean…”

“You’re forgetting that we’re a family, Kentarou,” Iwaizumi said, stopping his horse besides mine. “The day you left, he was heartbroken, and the day we were told you were dead… he didn’t stop crying for weeks. He kept muttering about how he never told you.”

“We were little, there was no way that he could have-”

“I think he still does,” Iwaizumi said boldly, pulling me up short. “But that’s my opinion. Want to race around the castle?” He changed the topic as soon as he could, and it wasn’t enough.

 _Shigeru liked me_. That I knew. _Past tense_. It was likely in the past, we were so close then. But love? Now? After all these years of supposedly being dead? After growing up without seeing each other? After turning out to be complete opposites in almost everything?

It just wasn’t possible. This one is one where I would have to say that Iwaizumi is wrong.

But I nodded, and we both nudged our horses into a sprint.

* * *

After dismounting and leading our horses back into the stable, Iwaizumi and I headed back into the castle, out feet guiding us to the dining hall. I almost wanted to walk into the kitchens again and get something without having to go through the grand formalities of the hall, but I don’t think Iwaizumi would appreciate it. So, I sat down at the table and waited to be served.

“Do you feel different?” Iwaizumi asked after our lunch was brought in. I hunched over it immediately, and was lifting a sandwich to my mouth when he asked. I froze and eyed him.

“I thought you said that I wouldn’t have to worry about questions from you,” I said, blinking at him.

“Not about what happened this morning, no,” Iwaizumi said, sipping from his cup. “And I think this question is a lot different than the ones Oikawa asked of you.” He gave me a knowing glance, one that made me feel see-through, like glass, and I put my sandwich down.

“It’s… like I don’t fucking know who I am anymore,” I said truthfully, because I couldn’t lie to Iwaizumi even if I wanted to. It was impossible. “I have all these memories that don’t feel like they’re mine, and all these feelings that make me even more upset at the fact that I can’t claim them at all!”

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi asked, leaning forward a little. It reminded me of Oikawa.

“Like… I remember my parents and my brother, and you three taking care of me… and the anger from my dad and the love from the two of you and the friendship Shigeru and I had and I… I know it’s me. _It’s mine_. But… so much happened, so much that I had no control over… I changed so fucking much in that goddamn orphanage that it doesn’t even feel the same! I know that it all happened, that once upon a time I lived like that… but it’s not me anymore. And I don’t know how to fucking _feel_ -!”

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s tone was hard, yet reassuring, cutting me off and calling my gaze on him instead of the food in front of me. “Can I tell you something?”

“What?” I spat, not yet over the anger I felt, towards myself, towards everything I was and who I am now.

“It’s okay to be confused.” He looked like he wanted to reach over the table and place a hand on my shoulder. “You learned all of this in one day. Everything is coming back to you. It’s scary, it’s confusing, it’s heart-wrenchingly painful… and _it’s okay_.”

I thought that I shed enough tears that day for a lifetime, but I found my eyes prickling with the sensation of their threats. I wiped them away hastily before they could spill.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Iwaizumi advised last, before turning to his food. I nodded, pawing at my eyes for a second longer before I hunched over my food again and began eating. 

After, Iwaizumi gave me the option between going to the library and sparring near the stables. It wasn’t even a fair choice, honestly. We marched back outside, chose our swords, and started.

The clang of metal sounded with every step we took, every action we made. Blows upon blows, quick jabs, long sweeping arcs, sharp flicks of wrists, the vibration of colliding metal. Maybe I was just too out of it, maybe Iwaizumi was going all-out on me now that the standards he set for me were created by me in the first place, but I didn’t win a single match. I tried everything, from attacking right off the bat, to waiting until seemingly perfect moments, to even focusing solely on parrying so that he would tire himself out. None of it worked.

In a last-ditch effort, I tried jabbing at him. The action backfired when he batted my sword out of the way with enough force to knock it out of my grip. My eyes followed my falling sword, and while I wasn’t paying attention, Iwaizumi stooped down and swung his leg out, wiping my feet out from under me and making me fall harshly. The impact forced the breath out of my lungs for a couple seconds. It felt like torture.

“I don’t blame you that your heart’s not in it,” Iwaizumi said, holding his hand out to me. I took it, and he pulled me up. “But you could at least attempt to put some effort into your movements.” He gripped my shoulder for a fraction of a second for emphasis. I shrugged him off, rolling my eyes at him before smiling slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll focus more,” I complied, turning to get my sword back. The moment I turned, though, there was something mutely sharp pressed into the small of my back.

“Rule one,” Iwaizumi said, amusement saturating his voice, “don’t turn your back on your opponent.”

“Rule two,” I mimicked, falling to the side, rolling, and getting up on my feet fluidly, “never _underestimate_ your opponent.”

“But you don’t have a sword.” Iwaizumi’s grin was fit for the devil himself.

“The playing field doesn’t have to be equal in order to fight. First rule of survival.” I didn’t mean to bite out my words the way I did. I hated remembering that place, all the fights over scraps and brawls to stop the keeper from hurting anyone else, all the pain and the hollowness in your stomach from losing a battle.

Iwaizumi’s grin softened a little. I hated it. I didn’t want to be pitied.

I circled him slowly. His eyes were trained on me, and I could tell he was visualizing how far away my sword was from me now. I wasn’t trying to get to it, anyways. His eyes flicked away for a second, and that’s when I ran towards him. He swung, his blade cutting air as I rolled under it. On the ground, a second before I stood, I hooked my foot behind his ankle. I looked up, and when I stood, I caught his wrist, keeping it above his head.

He glared at me expectantly, almost daring me to continue. I grinned as I tightened my hold around his wrist and twisted, his sword falling to the ground.

“Street smarts,” Iwaizumi noted, his lips curling upwards despite his defeat.

“Gotta know how to disarm them, somehow.” I shrugged, taking a step back. Iwaizumi jumped me, wrapping an arm around my neck and digging his knuckles into my hair. “Hey!”

“You smart little shit!” he roared, laughing, before letting me go. “C’mon, I need to go see if Oikawa’s torturing Yahaba or something,” he said, gathering our swords from the ground and heading towards the castle. I didn’t follow him.

“Uh... actually, I’m going to go back to the stables…” I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder towards the place even though he wasn’t facing me.

“Really? Why?” he asked, turning around and eyeing me.

“…Obvious reasons.”

“Fine. Just don’t take anyone out of their stalls, okay?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Most of the time,” Iwaizumi said, shaking his head at me, before walking off again. I watched him disappear into the sword room before I darted into the stables.

The dog was waiting for me at the door, and I blinked at it before sliding in beside it, not wanting to move it. It followed me into the stable, its tail wagging wildly. When I stopped, it sat by my feet.

“Hi…?” I said, waving at it slightly.

The dog popped up, and ran off to its corner, before coming back a second later. It dropped something at my feet, and when I looked, it was a bloody, dead rat. My lip curled in distaste. The dog barked at me.

“Uh… nice catch…” I muttered, patting its head. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, its tail basically sweeping the floor with every arc it swung. I moved away from the rat, the smell of death getting to me and reminding me too much of dark alleys and desperate nights, and sat down. The dog was by my side, nosing at my arm until I started petting it. _Him_. His fur was soft, black in some places, white in others. He looked well-kept, although he could use a bath.

Before I knew it, the hulking dog was delicately making his way into my lap, and a second later, he succeeded.

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, continuing to pet him.

A couple minutes later, he fell asleep.

 _Well, I’m stuck here_. At least it was better than being in the castle. I don’t think I want to go back in. Not because of guilt, I know I shouldn’t feel like that. This is my family, my home, I shouldn’t feel out of place in somewhere I belong. No, it was because of _Shigeru_. ‘Liked.’ I could fucking deal with ‘liked.’ No big deal with _that_. It would make sense. But _love_? After all this time, it was impossible. There would be no way.

Thoughts about all the times he helped me bathe burned through my mind, catching my cheeks on fire and making me groan in embarrassment.

The dog stirred, but didn’t wake up.

This whole thing was a _mess_.

I tried not to think about it too much, tried to absentmindedly pet the dog in my lap without thinking, but it was no use. This morning played through my head on repeat, and I felt his warmth on my back, his fingers pressing into my hip, I heard him mumble my name… I swallowed hard.

 _Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t go there_.

I leaned my head back and stared up at the roof of the stables. Actually, it was the floor to the loft. A small ladder led up there. I didn’t want to go, plus I couldn’t; the dog weighed a ton across my lap. I stared and stared at the mundane wooden pattern until I felt my eyes droop closed.

Was I asleep? I don’t know. Hell if I fucking knew. All I knew was that I had a kink in my neck and something heavy in my lap.

“I knew you didn’t hate Yan,” someone said smugly, and when I looked up, Shigeru was smiling down at me. No, that smile was _malicious_ , almost like he was searching for something to hold over my head and he just found it. My cheeks burned.

“Whatever,” my muttered, my voice thick. I nudged the dog, and he woke up and stepped off my legs before stretching widely. I considered staying on the floor, feeling the tingling sensation in my toes already, but after a second I pushed myself to my feet. Pins and needles found their way under my skin, making me wince at the slight pain through my legs. Shigeru looked concerned, but didn’t say anything.

“Did you stay out here all day?” he asked incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest dramatically.

“For the most part, yeah,” I replied, dusting dirt off me. I realized I was still pajamas. It didn’t matter anymore. “Why’re you here?” I demanded, squinting at him. It almost sounded like an accusation, and I wanted to wince at the words. I didn’t mean them like that, I swear!

“Dinner’s ready. Iwaizumi told me I would find you in here.” He sounded stiff, like nothing ever happened, like this was just a favor he was doing for Oikawa. I wanted to punch myself. It shouldn’t matter-

“Let’s go, then,” I found myself saying, giving a final pat to the dog before walking out of the stables. The sun was already down, light blue fading into dark purple as the sun sank, weak starlight already littering the sky. I didn’t let myself look for long, and I made my way to the castle. I could hear Shigeru’s footsteps behind me, but he didn’t make an attempt at catching up with me or start a conversation. I wouldn’t know what to say in the first place.

Oikawa grinned when we walked into the dining hall and took our seats. Iwaizumi was sitting on Oikawa’s right, so I took my spot at the second seat to his left. Shigeru sat beside me. I refused to look at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Oikawa’s smile wilt.

The food was served, and I made sure to sit up straight instead of hunching over like I wanted to. Iwaizumi and Oikawa yammered on about how the process would be a lot simpler now that I was who they thought I was; it was a matter of focusing on the rest of my memories (the point was brought up by Iwaizumi, who insisted I had a little time to make sense of all of this; I pretended not to see Shigeru’s concerned glance when he said that), refining what I already knew, and teach about a couple things that goes on throughout the royal castle I should prepare for while being king.

I listened to every word, but I said nothing. I nodded when they asked me if the plan sounded alright.

I took a bite of the berry tart they gave us for dessert, and gagged on the sweetness of it. Fitting.

“Get some sleep, the both of you,” Oikawa said, looking at Shigeru and me sternly as he rose from his seat. “Tomorrow will be productive, in the least, so I need you both well-rested.”

“Oikawa, would it-?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” He shut the question down before it could even fully escape Shigeru’s lips. They stared at each other for a second, before Shigeru looked away and Oikawa grinned triumphantly. “Okay! Goodnight you too! See you both in the morning!” he said cheerfully as he latched onto Iwaizumi’s arm and walked out.

The two of us sat there, tense, before Shigeru pushed himself out of his seat, the legs of the chair scraping noisily on the floor.

“C’mon,” he muttered, and I followed him out.

When we got to the room- _his room_ , the thought made me shudder slightly- Shigeru rustled with way through the wardrobe until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out some clothes for himself, and marched his way into the bathroom, not sparing me one look. When the door closed and I heard the water running, I let out a strangled sigh.

I knew I shouldn’t be angry with him, and I wasn’t. He had every right to act like that. He probably knows better than anyone that word travels around in places like these, and even if Oikawa and Iwaizumi were good people, he probably thought that I knew everything he told them by now. Which was kind of true. And I was an ass to him in the stables. And this whole day was a mess.

I threw the window open and sat at on the windowsill, my legs swinging off the edge. Everything looked… surreal. Beautiful. Calm. Something so, so different from the tangled mess of thoughts in my head. I couldn’t focus on one thought long enough until the next pushed it out of the way. It was maddening. I sat forward, my head in my hands as I looked down at the ground below. It was such a far way down, and yet it was safe. Like nothing could hurt me.

“You thinking of running?” Shigeru asked as he walked out of the bathroom. He paused in the middle of the room, or at least that’s where he was standing by the time I turned around and looked at him.

“No.” I climbed off the edge and back inside the room. I found my old set of clothes in the wardrobe before making my way to the bathroom. Before I closed the door, I eyes Shigeru, who was sitting comfortably on the bed. Our eyes met, and I shut the door before anything could be said.

I didn’t fucking dare to try and run a bath. I would probably fucking flood the place. Instead, I left the bathtub unplugged and ran the water anyways. I grabbed a small towel, dabbed some soap on it, and sat in the middle of the tub. After dowsing myself, I scrubbed every last inch of me, getting all the sweat, tears, dirt and dog smell off of me. After, I sat a little closer to the tap and stuck my hair under it, letting the water run through my hair and down my back and face. Feeling better, I turned off the water, toweled off, and climbed into my clothes. When I inched out of the bathroom, I noticed the light was dim and Shigeru was a bump on top of the bed, swaddled in a blanket with his head peeking out.

It felt like forbidden territory now, so I started walking towards the corner.

“There’s space for you, you know,” Shigeru muttered, stirring slightly under his pile.

“Yeah, it’s yours, so…” I said back, not sure what I would have said if I would have continued.

“I didn’t have a problem sharing before,” he shot back, nowhere near sleep. “And I don’t mind now, either,” he added.

“I just don’t want to-”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, now just get up here,” he demanded, sounding a lot like Oikawa. I grit my teeth, thinking, weighing my options, before I begrudgingly crawled onto the opposite side of the bed. I didn’t take a blanket, not this time, not willing to push my luck or the generosity.

Things change when your perspective does. I hated it.

I curled in on myself, brining my knees as close to my chest as I could. I didn’t close my eyes. I stared at the window.

“You love me,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Shigeru shifted a little.

“Yes.” He sounded uneasy.

“Now?”

“No, I just realized I hate your guts,” he deadpanned, turning over to face me, but my back was towards him. “Of course now, dumbass.”

“Why?” I asked. There wasn’t a response. “I’m not the person I used to be. I don’t think I’ll be able to be that person again. So much has happened and… back then… everything from back then feels like a dream. There’s no way I’ll be able to be the person you fell in love with again… so there’s no point.”

“I liked you then,” Shigeru started slowly. “You were my best friend, my _only_ friend. You were everything to me. When I thought you died… I didn’t stop caring, not for a second, I didn’t stop wishing you were still out there somewhere. You changed so much, but that’s what happens when you grow up. I don’t want the person you used to be, Ken. You think I’m stuck in the past, but I’m not. I liked you then, but seeing you now, and all you’ve been through… even though you’re a stubborn asshole… I love who you are now.”

I turned around, and fit myself against him, arm over his side and face pressed near his chest. There were blankets in the way, but I didn’t care. He moved them out of the way, wrapping them around me too. _Shigeru loved me_. I didn’t know I was crying until one of his fingers wiped a tear from my cheek.

“I-I’m sorry…” _for thinking of you so poorly, for taking you for granted, for forgetting you, for being an asshole._ “I’m so, so sorry…” _for not knowing if I love you back_.

“It’s okay…” No, no it wasn’t. It wouldn’t ever be okay. How could I do this to him? Everything was so messed up. He loved me, and I couldn’t tell him that yet, not yet, not until I knew, not until I had time to think this through, to sort this all out. He rubbed circles into my back, calming me down, or trying to, anyways.

“I-I can’t…”

“I don’t expect you to,” Shigeru said, almost like he knew what I was going to say.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

I’m ashamed that I fell asleep soon after that.

* * *

I woke up still tucked close to Shigeru’s chest. Out legs were weaved together and his arms were around me. I blinked, smiled tiredly, and did the most natural thing I could think of: I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN FACTS ABOUT THIS CHAPTER!  
> 1) Yan is a black-and-white Border Collie!  
> 2) The question Yahaba was going to ask Oikawa at dinner was "Would it be okay if I was in another room tonight?"  
> 3) My eyes watered several times trying to write this!  
> Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you think!  
> Stay safe, and i hope you get at least three hugs this week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first part of the last chapter of this! it got really long, so i broke it up!

“I can’t do this!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up and turning away.

“Kentarou, it’s something you have to learn,” Shigeru said, stepping up from his place on the sidelines and putting a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. The older regent looked almost at his wit’s end, his mouth working for words that wouldn’t come out of pure indignation.

“It’s all superficial, anyways! I don’t want to fucking do this-!”

“Language! _Especially_ in front of a lady!” Oikawa snapped, finally finding words. I looked over at the pretty servant a couple feet away from me. She didn’t looked phased at my choice of words, but, just to make Oikawa happy, I bowed shallowly in her direction.

“Pardon my speech,” I mumbled, unhappily, and when I stood straight again, she was waving me off. “I still don’t get why I have to do this! I could just stand in the corner and watch, regally, as the rest of the world revolves around me! Isn’t that what every other king does?”

“So, you’re telling me you want to mimic your father in every aspect of his reign?” Shigeru asked, raising an eyebrow and taking a step towards me. I wanted to move even more towards him, challenge him, but all I did was narrow my eyes. “He was a cruel, distant king. The reason why he was killed is because he wouldn’t listen to the demands of his kingdom, let alone interact with anyone outside his regents. Are you _seriously_ going to be like him?”

“This _isn’t_ me!” I argued, gesturing down at the highly uncomfortable clothes they wrangled me in and the even more uncomfortable pointed shoes. “I wasn’t _meant_ to be standing here, in the center of attention! It’s just not my job!”

“Well, it’s your job now!” Shigeru argued.

“Boys, boys,” Oikawa said, chuckling a little and waving his hands in wide arcs as he stepped closer to us. “I think I know the issue here,” he said, his hands coming down, one of each of our shoulders. I realized how close we were in order for him to be able to do that. My cheeks flushed. “Kentarou, you have no incentive.”

“Incentive?”

“No reason to dance, I mean,” Oikawa said, smiling. “Why dance with someone you just met after all, am I correct?” It sounded like a loaded question, one where either answer was going to hurt me. I slowly nodded, before looking at the servant.

“No offense, it’s just-”

“I understand,” she said, her voice clear. She curtsied slightly.

“So! Kentarou, Yahaba, you will be dancing together!” he said, and he almost sounded delighted.

“O-Oikawa!”

“You’ve gotta be _fucking kidding_ me!”

“Ah, ah, ah! No excuses!” He wagged a finger in our direction. “You two work well together anyways, and Yahaba knows this dance just as well as she does.” He inclines his head to the servant, who smiles sweetly in response. “You can instruct Kentarou through the steps, am I correct?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, curtseying again.

“There’s _no way_ I’m dancing with him!” I said, taking a cautious step back and glaring at Oikawa. It’s been days since I found out that I was the prince, and that he liked me, but we haven’t talked about that since. He didn’t pushed the issue, so I never brought it up. I felt his eyes on me sometimes, though, and his expression is always something like him trying to piece together something that doesn’t quite fit. But nothing was really different, except, maybe, that waking up in each other’s arms wasn’t really uncommon anymore.

That doesn’t matter. None of it does. Because there was something much more embarrassing in dancing with him in front of other people than in waking up with our fingers threaded together. There was just _no way_ -

“Mmm, well, there is a way, and you’re going to.” Oikawa’s conviction broke through my thoughts, and I prayed to any god that would listen that my embarrassment wouldn’t show on my face. “Now, Yahaba, Kentarou, if you will.” Oikawa took a step back and gestured with his hands, almost like he was trying to direct us together, closer. Neither of us moved.

“Oikawa, I really don’t think this-” Shigeru was saying, trying to be reasonable, but Oikawa was having none of it.

“Now. Please.” He tacked on the courtesy in a way that so starkly contrasted with the command that it made me nervous. Shigeru flashed me a nervous expression, and I could see the unspoken apology behind his eyes as closed the gap between us. I looked away as he put on hand gingerly on my shoulder, and I grit my teeth when I settled one hand on his hip. I tried my best not to flinch when our other hands gripped each other.

Not a second later, the servant’s voice, clear and high, started instructing me through the moves. I wasn’t listening too much, too focused on staring at our feet and the feeling of Shigeru’s hand on my shoulder and in my own palm, slightly pulling and shifting, almost like he was directing me through the moves too. I didn’t look up.

The steps came clumsily, and it felt like it took fucking forever, but when I finally got them down, they were easy. And that’s when I realized that it was so easy because _Shigeru_ was leading, and it _pissed me the fuck off_ ; he was dancing the lady’s part, his steps light and almost graceful, and yet his hand was solid on my shoulder as he continued to lead me through it.

My hand slid from the bottom of his ribs to the beginning of his hip, and I could feel the way he stopped breathing for a second, and saw the way his steps stuttered for a moment. I grinned at his small misstep, and continued, my movements a little more solid than before. I could feel Shigeru’s grip tighten on my hand as he still tried his hardest to lead, but I wasn’t just following anymore.

The dance felt more like a battle. I was still staring at our feet, a sense of horror in the back of my mind at the thought of messing up and stepping on his toes, but the movement was more forceful, like there was a purpose. My hand was still on his hip, basically gripping his side while battling with the desire to just _fucking tell him to stop leading_. His hand were still on my shoulders, and he was gripping me just as hard. His hands burned where it gripped mine.

“Stop, stop, _stop_!” Oikawa blurted, sounding displeased. I let go of Shigeru almost instantly, and he basically pushed me away as we separated. There was a distinct frown on the chocolate-haired male’s face, and when he folded his arms across his chest, he looked at the both of us with disdain. “This isn’t a competition, or a war, or… whatever you two are making it to be.” His voice was hard, serious. I trained my eyes on him, and made sure that my line of vision didn’t shift towards Shigeru. “Dancing is a conversation. It’s supposed to be light, casual… not aggressive and power-hungry.”

He sounded like he was reprimanding two children. I briefly thought about all the time we had lost, all together, but I shook it out of my head before I could feel guilty about things I couldn’t change. Again.

“Start over, and this time,” Oikawa commanded, pausing for a moment, “the both of you are to make and maintain eye contact.”

I wanted to argue that I couldn’t do it if I wasn’t looking at our feet, but there was no use in challenging him on this. Neither of us moved back into position after his words; we didn’t so much as look at each other. There was something a lot more embarrassing than dancing in front of people, and it was facing… whatever _this_ was in front of other people.

Oikawa was about to say something when Shigeru bent forward, bowing deeply. His hands were clenched into fists and were stiff at his side. He didn’t look up from the floor.

“Oikawa, may I be excused?” he asked. His voice was high-strung and loud, and I couldn’t make sense of his tone.

“Yahaba?” Oikawa asked, tilting his head slightly. Worry was written on his face for a fraction of a second.

“Please?” he pleaded, not looking up. I felt like I was somewhere I shouldn’t have been, watching something that wasn’t for me to see.

“Go,” Oikawa resigned, waving his hand. Shigeru stood up straight once more, and didn’t spare me a glance as he walked out of the room. “Haven’t talked about it yet, have you?” Oikawa asked suddenly, his tone the same light and cheery one that he used every so often to irritate the crap out of me.

“That’s none of your business,” I said, turning away from him.

“I think it is,” he replied, and his hand was on my shoulder. “I really do care about the both of you, you know. I want what’s best for-”

“Then _stop_ ,” I growled, moving his hand off me. It felt wrong, like it burned. “Stop trying to force this.”

“Force what? All you seem to be doing is trying your hardest to avoid the situation altogether.”

“I wasn’t-!”

“Then why didn’t you look at him throughout that whole time?” he demanded, his hands planted on his hips as he glared at me. “You’re hurting him, Kentarou, more so than ever before. I was just trying to get you to _feel_ something for a fraction of a second so that you would comprehend-”

“I _feel_ just fine, thank you!” I yelled, exhaling sharply. “I don’t need you meddling!”

“Meddling into something that isn’t there isn’t meddling!”

“The both of you are squabbling like school children,” someone said levelly, and both of us turned our heads to the door. Iwaizumi was standing there, a sort of amused expression on his face before it hardened.

“Iwa, I was just-!”

“Apologize,” he said. “The both of you.”

“He was the one that was-”

“I know, and I don’t care, Kentarou. Apologize. Now.”

“I’m sorry. I should have known that you were only trying to make things better,” I admitted, turning to Oikawa and bowing. “Even if you are kind of a jerk about it,” I muttered as a second thought, and Oikawa scoffed.

“And I’m sorry that I was meddling with things that take time to mend themselves,” Oikawa responded. Iwaizumi hummed, satisfied with the exchange for now.

“Kentarou, come on,” Iwaizumi said, jerking his head to the door. I blinked at him, and Oikawa protested.

“You cannot be serious, Iwa! He needs to know how to dance-!”

“Yes, I agree, but that’s not the way to go about it,” Iwaizumi said. “Dancing lessons will resume later, but for now I’m going to teach him all I can about current affairs in his future kingdom.”

Finally, something that felt a _little_ productive. I followed Iwaizumi out, leaving Oikawa and the servant behind.

Honestly, I was just glad I wouldn’t have to face Shigeru.

“He does have a point, though. You know that right?” Iwaizumi asked, side-eying me as we walked down the corridor and up a set of stairs.

“He probably insisted on dancing lessons just so he could force us together,” I mumbled. It was just the sort of thing he would do. I remembered the way my hand slid down to Shigeru’s hip, the way we were so close but so far… and suddenly I felt like I fell into a trap without even knowing it.

“It’s true that you need to learn how to dance,” Iwaizumi said. “Being social is a very big part of being king, and dancing is just another way to socialize during grand events. And I don’t blame him for trying to pair you up with Yahaba; he is one of the best dancers here. But his timing is wrong.”

“Hell if I know that one,” I muttered, and I got a smack to the top of my head as a reward.

“Stop cursing,” Iwaizumi chastised lightly, before we reached the large, impressive library.

We settled into a corner, and he started talking about everything that I needed to know. I was surprised that I knew most of what he was talking about, and it wasn’t a very long lesson because of it.

“I figured you would know as much as you did,” he remarked, when he finished talking about the last subject on the list of issues. Ironically, it was the rising amount of poverty.

“The system’s corrupt, that’s all. I just happened to be a victim of it,” I mumbled, not wanting to remember. Iwaizumi nodded in understanding.

“So,” he started, pausing for a second to make sure I was paying attention, “are you avoiding Yahaba?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” I murmured, looking away.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I am. But I don’t want to talk about it.” I raised my eyes up from the floor and to Iwaizumi, and saw the look he was giving me. It was practically demanding the truth. “I don’t know what to fucking feel, okay? How am I supposed to? He said he still fucking loved me, even when I treated him like shit. How can I trust that? All this shit is driving me crazy because I like being around him, but it’s so fucking stupid because it’s like he’s waiting for me to say something, for me to confess and say I like him too-”

“Why don’t you?” Iwaizumi butted in. “You seem so wound up by the issue that one would assume that you _did_ like him back.”

“But I can’t,” I stressed, holding my head in my hands. “Everyone I love gets hurt.”

“That’s a lame excuse.”

“It’s the truth!”

“It might be to you, but that’s not the root of the problem and you know it.” I peeked up at him, and he looked like he just licked a lemon, his lips pressed into a hard scowl and his eyes narrowed. The comparison almost made me laugh, but I didn’t. “Tell me, Kentarou,” he says, and the gentleness in his voice is nowhere near the expression of his face.

“ _I’m scared_ ,” I breathed, hating the way the word cracked. I swallowed, and continued, even though I didn’t know what I was saying. “I’m scared that if I say anything, things will change. I’m scared that he’ll change his mind, _I’ll_ change my mind, and I’ll end up hurting him. I’m scared of becoming king, and telling him and getting married right in front of him and breaking him. I don’t want to be king because I would be stuck behind these… these _bars_ that I spent so much time trying to escape.”

“You’re scared of hurting him…” Iwaizumi muttered softly, replaying my words to me. I blinked once, surprised that there wasn’t tears in my eyes, but not surprised to find a lump in my throat.

“And he can’t love me. He _can’t_ ,” I continued, not wanting the silence, not wanting what I said to settle on Iwaizumi’s mind long enough for him to make sense of it. “He says that he does but I know he can’t. All of that was forever ago, and he’s only saying all this because… because…”

“Yahaba wouldn’t say something like that without meaning it,” Iwaizumi butted in when I couldn’t think of how to finish. “If he says he means it, he does. And he doesn’t make decisions like these half-heartedly, either. Literally. No matter what happens, there’s always going to be a part of him that belongs to you: no matter who you become, who you are, or who you were.” He pauses here, waiting for me to look at him again. When I do, he takes a deep breath, and leans forward. “So why are you so insistent on pushing that part of him away?”

“BECAUSE!” I yelled, standing up so fast that my chair topples over. I didn’t care. I couldn’t do this. “All my life, I had nothing!” _That’s not true, I had them, I had Oikawa and Iwaizumi and Shigeru-_ “I was told that I was going to be nothing, good for nothing, and rotting on the streets before I could think of being something! I don’t _deserve_ someone like Shigeru! He should be the one becoming king, not me! He should be the one…” _The one that was loved by someone important to them-_ “I don’t deserve anything! What have I done? What did I do to deserve this?!”

“Kentarou, you need to-” Iwaizumi was next to me, grabbing my shoulder and stopping my pacing. I tried pushing him away, but he gripped both my shoulders and shook me. “You need to calm down,” he warns again, his eyes gleaming. “Are you going to listen to me?”

“Not if it’s bullshit.” He shook me again, his fingertips pressing into my shoulders so intensely that I _swear_ they would bruise.

“That’s the thing about love, Kentarou,” he huffs, annoyed with my remark and, by the look in his eyes, my stupidity. “You don’t need to deserve it. It’s given, it’s accepted. You don’t need to do anything to deserve it, not if it’s the right kind. Get that through that thick skull of yours.” He lets me go after that, shoving me a little so I wobble back a step or two. “Do you remember what I said when you figured out who you are?”

“What?”

“Obviously not,” Iwaizumi sighed. “I told you it was okay to be confused. Remember?”

“Oh… yeah,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“It’s also okay to feel, even if you’re scared. Even if you told yourself all this time that feeling was useless. Yeah?”

“Sure…” I said uneasily. Iwaizumi gave me a once-over, before laughing.

“C’mon, enough with the heavy. Let’s go eat.”

This time, I did lead him through the kitchens. We walked right in, grabbed what he wanted, and left. He didn’t seem to mind.

* * *

“Figured I would find you here,” Shigeru said as the door opened, and I nearly toppled off the windowsill in shock. He suppressed a snort as he shut the door to the room behind him.

“Am I really that predictable?” I muttered, righting myself on the windowsill and getting a little more comfortable. The sun was just starting to set, the sky just starting to dye itself all kinds of colors.

“A little. I went to the stables first, but Yan told me you weren’t there,” Shigeru said, coming up by the windowsill and leaning against the wall next to it. He didn’t come closer.

“Dogs can’t talk,” I muttered, frowning.

“I was kidding,” Shigeru replied, rolling his eyes. There was something like annoyance in his voice, but it sounded right. “Anyways,” he said, before taking a breath, “I just wanted to say sorry-”

“For what?” I demanded, glaring at him. “What the hell did you do?”

“I made things like… _this_!” He gestured between us. “I shouldn’t have said anything about who you are, I should have brought up any of… what I felt. Feel. Whatever. I shouldn’t have mentioned any of that. It made things weird.”

“Did Oikawa tell you to apologize or something?” I scoffed, looking back out to the sky.

“You know, I’m trying to be serious here!”

“I know that. And it’s not necessary. You don’t need to be sorry for a _damn thing_ , Shigeru.” His name rolled off my tongue before I could think of what to call him. I felt like covering my face with my hands when I saw the dark flush of red rise on his cheeks. “It’s me that fucked all this up. So don’t worry about it.”

“I’m still sorry for-”

“Stop. Just stop it.”

“Fine.” And with that, he walked out. Somehow, that hurt a lot worse than any comeback he could have shot at me.

What the hell did Iwaizumi just tell me? It’s alright to feel, and be confused, and it’s okay if I didn’t deserve this because it didn’t need to be deserved. That was my one chance to tell him that maybe I don’t understand how I feel about him _now_ , but that it was okay because I understood how he felt about me and maybe I would try to be a little less of a dick… but no. There I fucking went, yelling at him and pushing him away and treating his feelings like a fucking joke all over again.

_“Get that through that thick skull of yours.”_

What a fucking idiot.

* * *

Dinner was light and warm and nice, even though the space between Shigeru and I was ice cold. I wished I wouldn’t have chosen to sit here, of all places. Oikawa was rambling off about something, his voice clearly excited over whatever he was discussing with Iwaizumi, and I knew Shigeru and I were supposed to be listening, but I didn’t dare.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, and he wasn’t even looking up. He was looking down at his food, frowning slightly. He hasn’t looked at me once since we came in. I tried not to focus on the hollow pain in my chest at the thought that I finally broke him; that I finally made him snap, made him realize how much of an asshole I really am, made him stop loving me, made him stop wanting to have anything to do with me ever again.

The pang near my heart told me one thing, and it made me lose my appetite. _Losing Shigeru would be-_

“And then, by next week, everything will be in order so we can leave for the palace in time for the-!” Oikawa exclaimed, his voice cheery and his smile easy as he spoke. The words dragged my head out of my ass and made my eyes widen.

“Wait, what?” I demanded, my voice to loud for the stillness of the dining hall. Oikawa stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hung on what was going to be the next word out of his mouth and his body half turned to Iwaizumi next to him.

“You’ll be ready for your coronation by next week,” Oikawa explained, turning back so he was sitting forward once more. His voice was light, as if it was nothing. He must have noted the confused expression on my face, because he laughed. “What, did you really think you would be staying here forever?”

“You’re coming with me, right?” The desperation in my voice was sickening. I wanted them to be there. Being alone was worse than being king. Leaving them behind, leaving _Shigeru_ behind, was worse than being alone.

“Well, we definitely don’t need a repeat of last time, so, of course we will be accompanying you to the palace,” Oikawa replied. He looked kind of smug at his own tiny jest, but no one laughed.

“That wasn’t funny,” Shigeru muttered, sending him a hard look before looking away again.

“No, that’s… not what I meant,” I said, shaking my head, trying not to think about the smell of a burning carriage. “I meant, staying there. With me.” I hated the way my face burned at the suggestion. I hated the way Shigeru’s fork slipped through his fingers and clattered loudly against his plate.

“Only family is allowed to live inside the castle,” Oikawa said slowly, his face carefully neutral.

“And, besides, it’s not like you’re never going to see us again. Oikawa’s one of your regents. You’ll be seeing plenty of-” Iwaizumi tried to rationalize, but I didn’t want that. I didn’t want visits, I didn’t want advice about the country from time to time. I wanted _this_. I wanted stupid conversations at dinner, I wanted arguments over petty things, I wanted someone chastising me about being predictable, I wanted someone to make fun of me for things I could care less about, I wanted someone who I could wake up next to and-

_Oh_.

“That’s not the same. You guys _are_ my family. I want you there.” I sounded stupid, so so stupid. I was stupid. I was an idiot. I wanted to look at Shigeru, wanted to tell him sorry then and there, wanted to- but it wasn’t the time.

“You’re asking a lot from us, Kentarou,” Oikawa said. “You’re asking us to leave our home and start a new life somewhere entirely new.”

“You did that to me the second you bought me,” I remarked, and he frowned. “Look, that doesn’t matter but… I know. And… consider it? Please?” _I don’t want to lose you three again_.

“Of course,” Iwaizumi said, nodding and smiling slightly at me. I felt I could breathe a little better after that.

Oikawa dismissed us not long after that, saying that we needed our rest and that he and Iwaizumi had very important matters to discuss. By the look in his eyes, I couldn’t tell if he meant it, or if it was just a cover up to fuck the night away.

I didn’t want to think about that.

Shigeru didn’t say a single word to me on the way up to the room. I guessed I deserved that. He stormed through the room once he wrenched the door open, going straight for the wardrobe and looking through the clothes. I took a deep breath, shut the door behind me, and scrunched my eyes closed.

“Teach me.”

Something slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor.

“What?”

I opened my eyes slowly, clenching my fists and hoping I wasn’t as red as I felt.

“Teach me. The dance. Please.” My sentence came out broken, awkward, but he got it. I saw his eyes widen slightly.

“You? Actually asking for something?” he said incredulously, smacking his hand to his cheek. “Who are you and what have you done to Kyoutani Kentarou?” He sounded scandalized. I glared at him.

“Are you going to teach me or not? Because I can find something better to do,” I threatened, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Like, what? Climb out a window? Pet a dog?” Shigeru asked sardonically, crossing the room and grabbing my wrist to pull me a bit to the center of it.

“You know what, never mind,” I said, trying to get out of his grip, but it was tighter than I thought it would be.

“I was only kidding,” he said lightly, rolling his eyes at me as he tugged me a bit closer. “I’ll lead first, so you can see how it goes, and then you can try. Is that alright?” he asked, giving me a hopeful look. I bit the inside of my lip and nodded.

My hands came to rest on his shoulder, while one of his settled on my side gingerly. We took each other’s hands gingerly a second later. He looked at me through his mouse-brown bangs for a second, before he started moving. I followed, mimicking his steps from earlier that day and trying to get the rhythm right despite there not being music to guide us.

“It’s not that hard,” I mumbled, looking up from our feet and noticing that he was never looking down. He smirked.

“Yeah, you say that now. And then once you’re leading you mess it all- mmf!”

So, maybe I lost patience and leaned up to kiss him. Maybe my hand that was on his shoulder slid up to cup his cheek. Maybe the kiss was a little awkward and sudden and in the middle of a sentence. Maybe it was suddenly too hot in there, maybe I tilted my head a little bit and felt Shigeru’s dry lips against mine for another second before I moved away.

Maybe when we both opened our eyes, our faces were red and we were closer than before. _But who the fuck cares?_

“Okay, what the hell was that for?” Shigeru asked, the slight smile on his face twisting into a mask of confusion.

“Language, Shigeru,” I chided, smiling at the way he glared at me. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be-”

“For making this whole thing so fucking stupid,” I explained before he could finish his sentence. “I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t believe for a fucking second that you would love me after all this time. I didn’t think I deserved it after what an asshole I was. _Am_. And then Oikawa said something about leaving and I realized how fucking stupid I was for not wanting to think about it, for making you think that I didn’t love you back, for treating you like shit when all I ever wanted was for you to be next to me for the rest of our-”

“ _Language_ ,” Shigeru chastises, butting in quickly before leaning in and kissing me.

It was soft, light, gentle, and I wanted _more_. I could have had this, could have loved him a lot sooner. My hand slid to the back of his neck, playing at the hair that was there, just as he slid his arms for firmly around my waist. He pulled us closer, and it didn’t feel like enough. I tilted my head at the same time that I pulled at his hair slightly, and a strangled kind of noise made its way from the back of his throat. I smiled, holding back a laugh, as I slotted my lips between him.

His hands were moving up and down my back, tracing patterns I couldn’t imagine and hugging me closer. It felt like an eternity passed before Shigeru sucked on my bottom lip. I gasped, and broke the kiss. I missed the warmth and the feeling immediately. I pressed my forehead against his. My fingers were still in his hair, and I tangled them into the soft strands further, his nails scraping his scalp slightly. He hummed, opening his eyes lazily and giving me the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on his face.

“Gods, I love you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the line of his jaw. He laughed, his grip on my hips tightening a little. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Remember what you said?” I asked, raising my eyebrows and giving him an expectant look. He only blinked at me. “About how I’d have to be convincing for you to ever kneel to me,” I explained, and Shigeru’s eyes widened. I leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, “Am I convincing enough, yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh man... im so sorry for this... that whole kissing thing is like the worst.....  
> But thank you for reading! please review!  
> please be safe! i hope you have a good day/night/whatever and enjoy something that makes you happy!


	7. And It All Goes Full-Circle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter guys! I hope you enjoy it!!

There weren’t many things for me to pack, so I either wandered around the castle or helped Shigeru pack his things. Helping him pack ended up being a bad idea, because he had to make a stupid game for kissing my cheek every time he bustled past me, and it pissed me off enough that I had to show him what a real kiss was like. So, after making out for ten minutes, he pushed me away, laughing breathlessly as he told me to go somewhere else so he can get all his things packed away.

I rolled my eyes and did what I was told because, well, that laugh had me hooked and I might as well listen to him so I can hear it more often.

But the good thing about all this was I could hear it any time I wanted to, now.

So that’s how I found myself in the stables, bored enough to watch the servants get the horses ready for the ride. I ended up hovering so close that one of the servants offered to teach me how to saddle a horse. It wasn’t really all that difficult, just a lot of fitting things in all the right spaces and clipping things in the right places. Honestly, the hardest part was knowing you were dealing with an animal big enough to kill you.

The dog stayed by my side the whole time, not killing me with kisses but just…. Hovering, like he knew we were leaving soon. As the servants filed out, I bowed to thank them, and wondered if we were bringing the dog with us.

It was a long while before anything was ready for us to get going, and a part of me was happy about that. Going back to the palace after all this scared the hell out of me. At least I wasn’t going alone.

I gave the dog one last pat to the head before telling it to stay when I started leaving the stables. I slowly made my way across the grounds, heading back into the castle. I nearly collided with Iwaizumi as he jogged his way out of the door.

“Oh, Kentarou, there you are,” he said, sounding relieved and slinging an arm over my shoulders. I let him hug me close for a second and lead me into the castle. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘ _I really want to know if you’re ready for this_ ,’ and in that case, no. I’m not ready,” I quipped, raising my eyebrows and looking at him. He chuckled at me, bringing his other hand up to rub his knuckles into my skull.

“You really _are_ going to make a good king. You can see through people easily,” Iwaizumi said, and I ducked out from under his arm, glaring at him slightly.

“Most people aren’t good at hiding their intentions, that’s all,” I muttered, not saying that living on the streets and dealing with less than desirable people all day taught me that. Maybe having a peasant being king is a good idea, after all. We can see through those nobles’ bullshit easily.

“Hmm…” Iwaizumi hummed, taking what I said into account. “Anyways, I just wanted to tell you about the plan.”

“The plan?”

“You and Yahaba will have a carriage by yourselves, and will be riding behind Oikawa and I’s carriage,” Iwaizumi reported, drawing himself up a little taller than he normally is.

“I thought we were all-”

“Oikawa and I are not blind, you know that, right?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and levelling me with a look. I tried to open my mouth, to say something, anything, but he beat me to it. “Yours and Yahaba’s relationship has gotten better, don’t you think?” His cheeky smirk told me everything he refused to say. And the fire on my face confirmed it for him.

Changing the subject would be nice right about now.

“I want to take the dog with us,” I said, looking down at our feet as we walked through the corridors. The tapestries weren’t all that interesting to look at. I still wanted to trash the living hell out of these immaculate marble floors.

“Yan? I thought you didn’t like him,” Iwaizumi said, his voice the definition of confusion.

“The palace would be more interesting with a pet other than horses,” I said, ignoring his statement. The dog grew on me, what can I say?

“Well, dogs are fantastic judges of characters. And Yan is obedient enough to follow orders and be hostile towards anyone who has ill intent,” Iwaizumi mused thoughtfully, tapping his cheek with his index finger. “I’ll make arrangements for Yan to walk alongside the guards. If Oikawa has a problem, he can take it up with me.”

“Thank you,” I said, dipping my head a little more, in something that resembled a bow that didn’t end with me landing on my face.

“Hey,” he said, nudging my shoulder with his. I looked up immediately, and saw the slight smile on his face. I raised an eyebrow in question. “I’m glad you two worked it all out. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks…”

It took me a minute to realize that he was steering me to the dining hall, but when we finally walked in, the food was already served and Oikawa and Shigeru were deep in conversation.

“Well, it definitely wasn’t serious!” Shigeru rebuffed, his voice rising an octave as Oikawa’s laugh bubbled out of his mouth.

“Oh yes, of course, which is exactly why we’re going!” he quipped, wheezing with laughter, before catching sight of the two of us walking in. “Speaking of which, looks like this conversation really has gone to the dogs!”

“Was that supposed to be a pun?” I asked, slipping into my seat next to Shigeru, purposely bumping my knee against his underneath the table. “Because that was terrible.” I grabbed a sandwich from a platter at the center of the table and took a bite.

“I don’t even want to know what the two of you were talking about, it was that horrible,” Iwaizumi said, filling his plate before taking a bite of his selection. Oops.

“Oh, please. I’m hysterical,” Oikawa said, waving a hand and dismissing the both of us. The previous conversation dropped completely, and I noticed a reddish tint to Shigeru’s cheeks. _What were they talking about?_

“So,” I said, breaking the relative silence that settled over us, “when are we leaving?”

“Eager, are we?” Oikawa said before Iwaizumi could open his mouth, raising an eyebrow and summoning a cocky grin to his face. I exhaled, giving him a solid glare and trying my best to seem nonchalant at his antics. (In reality, I was pissed. What the hell do you think? Just the fact that I’m going to be starting a new way of life, again, for like the third time in my life, makes me want to crawl out of my skin. I just want this over with.)

“We’ll be leaving shortly,” Shigeru answered instead, his foot nudging mine under the table. I knocked his back, and he rolled his eyes before hooking his ankle with mine.

“Have you finished packing, or do you need help?” I asked, trying hard to not laugh at the way his eyes widened slightly before they narrowed into slits.

“Considering the fact that you’re not very helpful, no I don’t, thank you,” he said indignantly, turning back to his plate. Oikawa snickered behind his hand. Iwaizumi was trying to hide his grin behind a mouthful.

“Whatever,” I drawled, and the dining hall fell back into a comfortable kind of silence as we ate. There was nothing really to discuss, anyways.

After, I followed Shigeru back to the room anyways, not planning on distracting him (at least more than necessary) while he finishes packing his things. I felt almost bad that I had nothing to bring with me, but I pushed the thought away the second I thought it; I was taught that material things didn’t matter. The only things that did was the money you stole and the food you could get that day. That was enough. Stupid things like sentimentalities and clothes meant nothing, not when you were nothing, yourself.

I’ll either be the stupid king this kingdom has ever seen, or the best. But I guess I would have to leave that for everyone else to decide.

“So, you’re just going to stand there,” Shigeru drawled as he moved a couple things into chests, “and watch me?”

“You said I wasn’t much of a help anyways,” I said, shrugging as I walked through the room and planted myself on the bed. He stood up straight and fixed me a glare, hands on his hips and his lips pressed into a tight line. “You look like a crotchety old man who has to take a shit, calm the fuck down,” I breathed, laughing at him. He scoffed at me, and grabbed something to throw, but I dodged it immediately (he really didn’t have good aim to begin with).

“Shut up! I don’t look old!” he screeched, making me laugh all the more.

“Right, right, you don’t look a day over 40.”

“Kentarou!” he yelled as I collapsed backwards with laughter. The next second, he was beating me with a pillow, smacking me as hard as he could with a flimsy offended look pasted on his face. “Take that back, you monster!”

“You’re supposed to be packing!” I protested, curling my knees towards my chest and reaching up to try and snatch the pillow from his grip. He continued to hit me.

“You’re supposed to be helping!”

“You said for me not to!”

“Stop holding that over my head!” Shigeru said in finality, dropping the pillow on my face. I stopped struggling and ripped the pillow off my face, accidentally flinging it behind me and making it hit the wall. “You know I was kidding,” he huffed as I sat up, and I didn’t hesitate to press a quick kiss to his lips when I leaned forward.

“I know, I just like giving you hell for shits and giggles,” I said, grin probably too wide for the occasion, before slipping off the bed and starting to grab things from the wardrobes and putting them into the chests.

“Great, I’m going to have to deal with you tormenting me for the rest of my life,” Shigeru said blandly, crossing the room to pick the pillow up and set it in its rightful place again before he did anything else.

“Hey, you fucking love me, though,” I quipped over my shoulder, moving a chest closer to the door for the servants’ ease. “Fuck, how much shit do you have?”

“Get used to all of this,” he says, patting me on the shoulder, “because people are going to expect you to never wear an outfit twice at the palace.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, that just sounds like hell.”

“Welcome to royal reality,” Shigeru said, looking at the wardrobe one last time. “I really don’t need all this,” he said, biting his knuckle and looking at everything he had left.

“Then don’t take it.” I shrugged. Really, it was that simple.

“You make it sound easy,” Shigeru whined, throwing his hands above his head. “Leaving without everything feels… wrong,” he admitted.

“Well, then take everything.” Seriously? I don’t care how much I love this guy, he’s being fucking stupid.

“It’s not that easy!”

“It is, actually.”

“Of course, because with you, it’s always all or nothing.”

“And you’re always indecisive as fuck.”

“Shut up!”

“You know,” I said, rolling my eyes at him as I stepped closer, “pretty soon, that’ll be a crime, talking to me like that.”

“Ooh, look who’s acting all high-and-mighty now?” Shigeru said, wiggling his fingers in the air mockingly. “I thought you didn’t want to be the king-”

“I don’t-”

“-and I at least expected you to be humble about it,” Shigeru plowed on like he knew nothing about me trying to interject. We were nose to nose now, and it was kind of hard to take him seriously. Fuck being slightly smaller than him. “What would you do if it was a crime, Kentarou?” he teased, a smirk spreading over his face as his breath fanned over my lips.

“Have you punished.” The threat sounded weak, and immediately Shigeru started laughing at me. We both knew I wouldn’t go through with it, anyways. I tried my best to keep a straight face as Shigeru nearly pissed himself, doubling over and laughing so hard his face turned an ungodly shade of red. I kind of wanted to sit him down and smack him to get him to stop, because it was kind of worrying.

I didn’t have to though, because someone was banging on the door.

“ARE YOU TWO READY TO GO OR ARE YOU GOING TO CONTINUE WASTING TIME? WE ARE, IN FACT, ON A TIGHT SCHEDULE!” Oikawa shouted on the other side of the door, pounding his fist hard enough to make the door rattle on its hinges. Or maybe that was Iwaizumi. Either way.

“Don’t have a stick up your ass!” I shouted back, and Shigeru smacked my arm.

“Excuse me?!” He sounded scandalized, so I held back a smile as I opened the door. Oikawa looked just as his voice said he would be, eyes wide with disbelief and his jaw slackened with shock.

“I said that Iwaizumi said you have a nice ass,” I said, my eyes flicking to the man behind him, who only smacked his forehead and shook his head.

“You are vulgar!” Oikawa screeched, grabbing my ear and pulling at it.

“Hey, hey, hey!” I yelled, bending slightly to alleviate the pain. _Fuck_.

“You better not talk like that anywhere near the palace,” he reprimanded, letting me go suddenly and making me stumble a couple steps sideways to keep from falling. Shigeru snorted behind me.

“It’s the last time I’ll actually be able to be myself, shit,” I murmured. I could see where he was coming from; if I talked like I normally do, they would never believe that I’m the prince, even though I am. They expect me to be prim and proper and… _royal_. That was never me, it was always… my brother. I couldn’t stop the way my breathing hitched, just slightly, and I definitely could hide away from the three concerned gazes that were cast my way.

_My brother is gone. My parents are gone. They weren’t the nicest people, but they were blood, they were family, and they’re gone…_

“I’m sure there will be times where you don’t need your royal façade,” Iwaizumi said gently, breaking me out of my thoughts. I gave him a thankful smile.

“I think we are all missing the point,” Oikawa said, drawing himself up so that he was taller than he actually was. “Are we ready here?!”

“Yes, we are ready to depart, Oikawa,” Shigeru replied easily, giving him a level gaze. “Anyways, I thought you always said that royalty was never supposed to be on-time to anything, just to make sure that everyone is genuine in the-”

“In the assembly, because a person who wants to see the royal would wait for as long as needed be to see them,” Oikawa finished, waving his hand in Shigeru’s direction. “No need to correct me, Yahaba. But Kentarou is technically not a royal yet, so we need to be punctual.”

“Yessir,” I mumbled.

Not long after that, we were ushered into separate carriages. The horses were antsy to get going, and Yan was next to the horses tied to the second carriage, wagging his tail excitedly. Oikawa shrieked when he saw him, confused as to why he was accompanying us and that someone made a mistake, before Iwaizumi clamped his hand over his mouth, whispered something in his ear, and effectively shut him up.

I don’t want to know what he said.

Shigeru was very confused, to say the least, when we were ushered into the second carriage, and honestly? It was kind of adorable. His eyes kept shifting from me, to the servant, to Oikawa and Iwaizumi getting into the carriage in front of us.

“Okay, so why wasn’t I told that we weren’t all going to be together?” he asked the moment the door closed behind us. I settled down next to him, and tried my hardest not to laugh at him.

“Because your face looks stupid when you’re surprised,” I responded, smirking at him. He scoffed, putting a hand to his chest, near his heart, like I hurt him. I had to roll my eyes. There was some sort of clamor outside the carriage, and a second later, there was a distinctive lurch before he started moving steadily. We both settled into the plush bench given in the carriage, and tried our best to relax. The last time I was in something like this, I was tied up and being forced into Oikawa’s abode. This was so much different. “This was Iwaizumi’s idea, actually.” I mentioned conversationally, breaking the brief silence between us.

“Iwaizumi?”

“He told me that he noticed how much better our relationship has got.”

“Ah…”

“Yeah.”

“They’re such hypocrites,” Shigeru chuckled, shaking his head and leaning forward so he could cradle his forehead in his hands. “There they are, talking about our relationship, while on the same side, the two of them are-”

“I’m going to stop you there,” I said, nudging my knee with his. He didn’t seem to notice.

“I bet the two of them are going to be doing things that would have been _illegal_ under your father’s rule, and they are the ones expecting us to-” he stopped suddenly, sitting up. His cheeks were tinted red and his eyes were wide. “I mean, unless you wanted to-”

Oh… _OH._

“Gods no. What the hell, Shigeru?!” I shouted, shuffling a bit away from him and looking at him, horrified. “What the hell would you even think about that?!”

“I wasn’t!” He looked just as red as I felt. “I was just wondering whether or not you were thinking that!”

“That doesn’t sound much better,” I pointed out.

“Putting us in the same carriage was very suggestive, that’s all I’m saying,” Shigeru huffed, sitting forward and sinking into his seat. Slouching? Unheard of. Not by Yahaba Shigeru.

“Well, I’d rather not fuck with you on the way to a whole new brand of life, if that makes you feel any better,” I said, inching my way a little closer to him to make up for all the space I put between us. Honestly, fucking in a carriage? If Oikawa and Iwaizumi were capable of thinking of something like that, I feel sorry for all the horses that have had to overhear all of that.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, leaning over until his head rested on my shoulder for a second, before sitting up straight. “So, I have a question.”

“Good for you?” I had to smother my smile at the exasperated sigh he gave me. He took a second to get situated, turning a bit so that one leg was on the bench while the other was on the floor, facing me better than he was facing forward.

“What was that whole… gasp thing about, earlier? When we were talking to Iwaizumi and Oikawa.” He was tentative, almost like he didn’t want to make me mad by asking something like that. Honestly, I should have figured out that he would want to talk to me about that.

“I was thinking about how I would have to act like my brother, and not myself, when we get there. And then I remembered that they’re all dead now.”

“Ken…”

“I mean, I should be more devastated than I am, really, I should,” I said, looking up at the roof of the carriage for support. I couldn’t look at him. “They were my family, I get that. But at the same time, my father didn’t give a shit about me, my brother wanted me gone because I embarrassed him, and my mother couldn’t do anything to stop them if she tried. I’m not fucking ecstatic that they’re dead, I just… I’m not really sad about it either.”

“Ah, _that_ ,” Yahaba said with a lit to his voice that I didn’t recognize. I looked up, and realized it was pain. The look behind his eyes said it all. “You were little when you saw them last. They died when you didn’t remember being related. It’s okay.”

“There’s a ‘ _but_ ’ in here somewhere. I know it, so just spit it out.”

“There’s not a ‘ _but_.’ Stop putting words in my mouth.” The glare he gave me as a result wasn’t as incriminating as it usually was. “I was going to say I know how you feel.” He paused, took a deep breath, and placed a hand on mine before he continued. “My mother dumped me and my sister at the orphanage when we were little, too. My sister was all I had, and she was ripped away from me the moment my mother left. I don’t know where any of them are now, or if their even alive. But I know this,” he looked up, and his eyes met mine, “out of everything, I came out pretty good. I think you did too.”

“You’re so fucking corny,” I said, scoffing at him as I weaved our fingers together. “I’m sorry that happened, though,” I mumbled, kissing the back of his hand.

“Yeah, well, I think your story calls for more sympathy,” he remarked, reaching up with his free hand to comb through my hair.

“Doesn’t mean that what happened to you can be overlooked,” I muttered. “Besides, being given up is a lot worse than being lost.”

“You weren’t _just_ lost-!”

“Well, then your mother didn’t _just_ give you up, and your sister wasn’t _just_ taken away from you, either,” I reasoned, shutting him up before he could say anything else that was remotely stupid.

“You’re so stubborn,” he muttered, giving my hair a final tug before removing his hand and shifting to sit forward again. Our clasped hands were in between us, and I leaned to rest my head on his shoulder.

“Could say the same thing about you,” I muttered.

* * *

“Ken… Kentarou. C’mon, wake up,” Shigeru said, trying his best to shrug his shoulder and get me off of him. I groaned, and shifted closer, pushing my nose closer to the crook of his neck and hugging him a little better with the arm I had around his waist. He laughed lazily, and pushed at the top of my head weakly. I cursed him in my head before groaning, sitting up, and stretching out my back a little. “We’re almost there,” he mumbled before yawning, his voice sluggish and still full of sleep.

“You knocked out, too?” I rubbed at my eyes as I spoke.

“No, I just decided to stare at my shoes the whole ride up here,” he remarked, giving me a sidelong look and a wayward grin. I huffed at him, refusing to laugh and refusing to look at him. We were almost there. That’s what he said, wasn’t it? This was it, one step closer to the palace, one step closer to the truth, one step closer to losing myself, one step closer to losing him, at least for a little, one step closer- “You okay?”

“No.”

“Scared?”

“ _Terrified_.”

I winced when I said it. The word meant nothing, it didn’t compare to all of it, it didn’t explain exactly what was going through my head. I expected a speech worthy of Oikawa when he opened his mouth, something along the lines of “ _You have nothing to fear! You are going home and you have all of us by your side like you wanted! Have faith, and be proud to serve your kingdom!_ ” But a second later, he closed his mouth and shifted closer to me instead, setting a warm hand on my expensively-clad knee.

He made me look him in the eye, and I realized just how beautiful the color brown was before he gripped the front of my tunic and pulled me into a kiss.

I didn’t have time to turn towards him, or pull him closer, or thread my fingers into his hair and pull on it, or tease his bottom lip, because he pulled away the moment my hand found his cheek.

“You’re going to do great,” he muttered, resting his forehead against mine and opening his eyes slowly. Those stupid, stupidly amazing eyes. I nodded, choosing to believe him instead of yelling and telling him I wouldn’t do jack shit for a kingdom that didn’t care about me. The feeling that my stomach was tying itself into knots and the way my head was spinning but felt like mud at the same time didn’t matter. All that matter was that he believed I could do this, and that should count for something, shouldn’t it?

“Besides, if you drag this kingdom to its downfall,” he whispered, and I dipped my head, our noses touching, “I’ll never forgive you.” There was a smile on his lips, too gentle for the quip that just left it.

“How the kingdom functions is my responsibility, isn’t it? I wouldn’t take it down out of spite when it reflects badly on me,” I replied, nipping at his lips.

“So selfish.” He grinned, his grip on my tunic loosening as he slotted our lips together. I tilted my head for a chance to get closer, and my hand on his cheek ran its way up into his hair.

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

* * *

The palace looked the same as the day that I left it. The rose bushes still grew tall, weaving up the outer walls of the palace. The stone statues still sat themselves on top of the wall and scattered through the garden before the castle, looking down at you as if you were less than for not being there as long as they have. The grass was still green and inviting yet forbidden at the same time. The bricks still stuck out from where the mortar chipped away, making perfect handholds and telling the tale of the royal family, from the way past to now. The windows still gleamed with cleanliness.

The palace still screamed “ _prestige_.” There was a lump in my throat, and it was growing more pronounce as we inched closer to it. Why we inched closer, instead of just rolling up to the great double doors, was clear the moment we looked out the tiny window of our carriage.

We were stuck in a sea of carriages, filled with regents and people. Horses shifted on their hooves, anxious to go somewhere or do something, but having no room to. It looked like everyone and their kid sister was in the courtyard that was in front of the palace, pressing to get into the palace or pushing to get out of their overly-extravagant carriages.

When our carriage stopped, the door was wrenched open and someone poked their head inside.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice and face devoid of all emotion. She had long black hair that slightly fell into her face. A pair of spectacles sat on the bridge of her nose, and there was a mole above her lips. She would have been pretty if it weren’t for the fact that her lips were pressed into a hard, flat line.

“I’m Yahaba Shigeru and this is Prince Kyoutani Kentarou, and we are here to present him to the regents and confirm his coronation,” Shigeru said steadily, sitting up a little straighter and looking at the girl levelly.

“There’s been a lot of ‘Kyoutani Kentarou’s floating around here, but since Oikawa said you were riding with him, I’ll let you pass,” she said. There was a hint of disdain in her voice, and skepticism in her eyes when she looked at me, and I knew she didn’t believe me in the slightest.

Why would there be people pretending to be me here-? Oikawa’s original plan popped into my head before I could turn and ask Shigeru. He obviously wasn’t the only one who thought of this.

When our ride stopped the second time, Shigeru and I stumbled out of the carriage unceremoniously and met with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, who weren’t too far away. There was slight irritation on their faces, but Oikawa’s was masked by a promise of mischief.

“There’s other me’s,” I said, my eyes flicking to and from each of their faces.

“I know,” Iwaizumi said, his voice steel. “Apparently, there’s a lot of people that feel like they can pass off as you.”

“I bet they’re basing their fakes off of me when I was little, all bark but no bite,” I said, clenching my hands into fists. Oikawa’s lips twisted into a smile.

“What a bright puppy,” he mocked, reaching to pinch my cheek, but I smacked his hand away. “Remember, we have something else they don’t, something that will ultimately convince the other regents.” He paused, eyes checking me and Shigeru to make sure we were focusing. There was no way we were ignoring him, not now. “Experiences. We have stories to share, about the king, the queen, the crowned prince, and the regents themselves. And, Kentarou,” he gave me a meaningful look, “you have the story of when the carriage was ransacked.”

“We aren’t lying, so he don’t have anything to be afraid of,” Shigeru said, his smile showing the confidence I wish I felt.

I changed so much during these past couple years, so much that Oikawa didn’t even recognize me until he started seeing similarities. How was I supposed to convince a bunch of stupid regents who I barely even looked at?

Well…. That was easy…

“Oikawa,” I said, catching his attention. He turned to look at me, his mouth pressed into a tight line and his head tilted, listening. “Are the regents gathered in the room they usually do?”

“Well, yes, nothing much has changed while you’ve been gone. I’m sure they’re going to start letting the imposters into the castle any minute now…”

“They’re in there now?” I asked, taking a step closer to him.

“Kentarou,” Shigeru warned, holding on to my arm a little. Oikawa nodded, looking confused. I nodded back, and turned on my heel before bolting away from them. “Mad Dog!” Shigeru yelled, the old name slipping out of his mouth.

“JUST MAKE SURE YOU THREE ARE THE FIRST ONES TO ENTER THE REGENTS’ HALL!” I shot over my shoulder, not stopping for a fraction of a second as I ran away from the crowded entrance of the palace.

There was a tower that connected to the rest of the palace. The top of it stuck up grandly, and the windows were shielded by thick, heavy curtains. I knew. I spent too much time in there as a kid goofing off than anything else. That was where the regents met, where they discussed important business with the royals and planned for the prosperity of the kingdom. I always thought it was stupid that I had to go to those meeting even though I was just going to fuck it up. But now, I’m grateful.

I sprinted over to the tower, looked up, and eyed the window above me.

It’s doable.

I found handholds in the brick patterns easily, and steadily started my ascent. I set my gaze upwards, trusting the three of them to get there in time, and focusing on where to latch onto and where to rest my feet. Climbing in relative silence didn’t last longer than that, because a second later, the guards were shouting, and the crowd was shouting and pointing in my direction. People sprinted to the foot of the tower, abandoning the entrance of the palace to watch me instead. They were still shouting, tones of mockery, alarm, and disbelief rising over their heads, and I had to laugh, because I didn’t know if all the noise was because they were genuinely worried about me falling or if they were upset that they didn’t think of this sooner.

My foot slipped for the fraction of a second, the better part of a brick chipping off and falling to the ground below, and I flung myself forward and clung to the wall for dear life. I probably got years of weathered brick pressed into the expensive outfit Oikawa wrangled me into, but I couldn’t care less. Maybe it was better that way.

I found a new foothold, and climbed on.

When I reached the window, I refused to look down as I clung to the ledge the window made. I grinned when I saw there was no lock; why lock it? It was way too high up for anyone to get in from the outside, and the room had minimal access, so why bother?

I was so glad that my family was so naïve about just about everything. That’ll change the moment I take the stupid throne.

I made quick work of the window, shoving it upwards and letting in a strong gust of wind that ruffled the rich red curtains. I could hear the commotion from inside the room, and struggled to get up and over the windowsill as fast as I could.

“-what in the gods’ names are you talking about Oikawa? Kentarou? Alive?”

“There’s millions of Kentarous’ out there right now. You’re delusional.”

“Is he now?” I asked once I got to my feet and pushed the curtains aside. There was a collective gasp from the long table filled with regally-dressed men. Some stood up so fast that their chairs toppled over. Others frowned at me like I was the devil incarnate. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, given my history. “Because I’m pretty sure that I’m standing here in front of you.”

“This is impossible,” someone scoffed, rising out of his chair slowly and making his way towards me. I knew this man. Sawamura Daichi, the second-hand man to my father, right after Oikawa, of course. His cropped brown hairstyle hasn’t changed much, and neither has his hard brown eyes. “He sure does resemble him… and is every bit as ungrateful for what he’s given like Kentarou,” he remarked, scanning my dirtied clothes, “but we all know that Kentarou died all those years ago. That cannot be him.”

“Do I look dead to you? I didn’t die that day. I escaped,” I retorted, folding my hands over my chest and giving him a level look. Somewhere in the background, Shigeru slapped his hand to his forehead. The other regents looked at me blankly, not sure what to believe. “Honestly? Did you really expect the boy you knew as Prince Kentarou to quietly surrender to impending death?” There was silence as the contemplated. “You obviously didn’t know me as well if you truly believed that I was gone.”

“As if a ten year old can fight off a whole squadron of bandits,” someone else spoke up, and when I looked, I realized I recognized this man, too. Kuroo Tetsurou. I smiled at him, but not pleasantly.

“I was hot-headed, I’ll admit that, but I wasn’t stupid. The king’s efforts didn’t go to waste.” I saw some of their expressions shift; anyone who knew who I was knew I never called the king “ _my father_ ” in conversation, and maybe, just maybe, I could win them over. “I said I escaped, and I did just that. I heard them start killing the carriage man and the horses, so I slipped out the window and ran straight into the forest. They burned the carriage afterwards.”

“I’ll indulge you, Kentarou,” Sawamura chided, giving me a sly look as he regarded me. “If you say you escaped, why did you not come back to the castle?”

“Like you all said, I was ten. I had no idea where I was. I did try to get back, though, and ended up falling and losing all of my memory in the process.” I said, squaring my shoulders and making sure I stood as tall as I could. Weakness means that someone’s going to the dogs, and I was not weak.

“He ended up in an orphanage after that. That’s where I found him a while ago, and now here he is,” Oikawa finally spoke up from the entrance of the room. The regents’ heads whipped around so fast that I swear I heard several pops in their necks.

“Anyone could have made up a story as ridiculous as that,” Sawamura spat, his voice cold and his eyes like daggers. “And Oikawa, I’m surprised you’re going along with it.”

“Daichi, you know I wouldn’t lie about matters like this!” Oikawa protested.

“Then what were you doing in an orphanage? Look for boys that looked like Kentarou like the rest of those fiends outside?” Kuroo spoke up, and Oikawa’s face burned.

“That’s not-!” Iwaizumi was protesting, but Sawamura raised a hand and cut him off.

“Someone call the guards to have this imposter removed,” he ordered, and I saw someone make a break for the door.

“NO!” I yelled, just as Iwaizumi and Shigeru moved to block the person’s path. “Sawamura, it’s me. I’m Kentarou,” I said, taking a step forward. My feet left dirt imprints on the floor. “I was the kid who yelled curse words in the middle of the royal meetings-”

“Everyone knew about the disrespectful actions of Prince Kentarou-”

“-I was the kid who almost burned the whole library down-”

“That catastrophe made the newspaper headlines for weeks; anyone could have known-”

“I was the kid that preferred to ride the sheepdogs instead of horses when I was little! You have to believe me!” I pleaded, taking another step closer to him. He looked as harsh as ever.

“You’re just as much of Kentarou as I am. You have no right to be here,” he said, turning on his heel and away from me, like I was beneath him to even _look_ at. “Have the guards escort him out immediately,” he demanded, and a murmur spread through the table of regents. Oikawa looked distraught, Iwaizumi looked confused, but Shigeru. Shigeru was giving me a hard look unlike Sawamura’s; it was urging me on, begging that I look deep down and think about something only I would know.

The memory made me flinch, but I scrunched my eyes up tight, balled my fists at my sides, and spoke.

“I broke the king’s sword,” I admitted, and I swear I could hear the moment Sawamura paused and looked at me slowly.

“What?”

“I wasn’t supposed to have it, and I dropped it. The blade chipped. You found me before he did. I was crying because I knew that he was going to punish me for doing something so stupid, and you just knelt down next to me, wiped my tears, and said he had bigger things to worry about,” I recounted, slowly opening my eyes, taking the stillness of the room as a good sign. Sawamura’s eyes were wide and trained on me. “You took the sword with you when you left, and you brought it back fixed.”

“H-How…?”

“I’m Kentarou, Sawamura Daichi. I wouldn’t lie to you,” I said.

“You lived…” he said, the realization dawning on him. His admittance brought a whole new murmur through the regent hall.

“It was never my intention to die,” I said with a smirk. He laughed at that, and surged forward in a hug that I never got during my childhood. When he let me go, he turned me to face the other regents, grabbed my wrist, and held it high in the air.

“Long live Prince Kentarou!” he shouted, his voice booming through the room.

“LONG LIVE PRINCE KENTAROU!” everyone shouted back, before cheering loudly. Over the heads of the regents, I saw Oikawa and Iwaizumi hugging, and Shigeru beaming so hard his face just about split in two.

I couldn’t blame them; it didn’t feel like home, not yet, not in a landslide, but it was where I was supposed to be. It was where I was needed. And I wasn’t alone, not anymore.

“Can I say something?” I asked, turning to Sawamura. He nodded tersely and took a step back, and almost immediately the regents went silent. “I’m honored to be back,” I started, “but I have no intentions to reign like my father before me or how my brother planned to reign. I’ve lived outside these walls; I know what goes on in the darkest alleyways and shabby inns. I understand many things about this kingdom that many of you I hope will never know. I’m not going to be the king you want me to be; I’m going to be the king these people _need_ , if you like it or not.”

I paused, and there was a second where everyone shared concerned looks with each other. Good, let them be confused. If they ask me anything later, I’ll make sure to tell them everything, without skipping a fucking detail.

“So I’ll be doing things differently,” I continued. “I demand that my family, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Yahaba, live alongside me in this palace, and be treated just as I do, and have proper places as regents in my court.” If there were protests to that, they were whispered underneath breaths or kept quiet. “Also, I am officially naming Yahaba Shigeru as my Head Advisor, and he will be treated as such.” There was a collective nod throughout the room, and some part of me sighed in relief.

Guards were sent to disperse the crowd, telling them all to leave, because the prince was found and there was no need for their presence. I laughed at the cheekiness of the message. After, the regents swarmed me, asking me questions and filling me in about all that’s happened since I’ve been gone. Some spoke of how close the kingdom was to civil war without its rulers, others spoke about my parents and how relieved they would be if they were still alive (I retorted quickly that if they were still alive, I wouldn’t be here in the first place; that shut them up, for the most part), and even others still asked me of my time away, and what happened to me out there. (Those who asked about my time at the orphanage left the conversation green and wishing they left that topic alone; I grinned at how they were supposedly the smartest men in all of the kingdom, and yet they didn’t know when to keep their mouths shut on shit they didn’t understand.)

When I was allowed to breathe, a servant showed me, Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Shigeru to our new rooms. The stairs were something I didn’t miss, the bedrooms, being so high up, but it didn’t matter. I demanded that I had my old room back, no matter what, and that Shigeru had the guest room next to it. The servant showed Oikawa and Iwaizumi two rooms down the hall, and that was good enough for them.

Either way, two of the rooms wouldn’t be used all that much, I was sure about that.

“I hope everything is to your liking,” the servant said as he let me into my old room. My eyes swept around the space quickly; it looked like someone took care of my things while I was “dead.” When I looked back, the servant was ducking himself out of the room discreetly.

“Wait,” I said, reaching out. The servant froze, his puffy orange hair drooping into his face. He did nothing to move it away. “How many guest rooms are there?” I asked, and he blinked at me in disbelief.

“There’s enough, your highness-”

“Kyoutani is fine, no need for that.” I waved my hand at the formality, and he snapped to attention.

“I-I mean, there’s enough rooms for all the guests you anticipate, K-Kyoutani,” the servant stuttered out.

“I need a number.”

“Ha-? Uhm! T-There’s about fifty, in total!” he answered, bowing slightly.

“Great,” I said, making him snap up again and look at me. His amber eyes were blown wide with something that looked like shock. Maybe it was because I sounded so much like them. “Then tell all the staff to move from the servants’ quarters to the guest rooms. Some may have to double up, but it’s better than living in-”

“I can’t do that! The guest rooms are reserved for guests of the royal family only! Our responsibility is to clean them, not live in them!” the orange-haired servant squawked, looking at me disapprovingly.

“What’s your name?” I asked slowly, and he gulped.

“H-Hinata Shouyou,” he answered, looking at the floor.

“I get what you’re saying, Hinata, but I’m not like the king before me,” I said, folding my arms over my chest. “It _fucking sucks_ in the servants’ quarters, doesn’t it?” His mouth worked open and closed, probably shocked that I cursed. “Tell me the truth.”

“Yes, it sucks,” he admitted smallishly. “It always smells, and most of us sleep on the floor…”

“That’s why I’m telling you to move everyone up to the guest rooms,” I said truthfully, looking at his eyes. “I’m not letting you guys live like that anymore. As long as you keep the rooms clean, and don’t slack off on your duties, there’s no reason for you all to not live up here.”

“Really?!” Hinata screeched, bouncing on his heels. “Really? You mean it, Kyoutani?” He looked like an excited Yan, and I stifled a laugh.

“Yeah.”

“ _Thank you, thank you, thank you!_ ” he said, surging forward with his arms wide, before catching himself and looking up at me sheepishly. “Thank you! I’ll tell everyone right now!” he shouted, running out of the room before remembering himself and bowing at the doorjamb. When his footsteps disappeared down the corridor, I let out a snort of laughter.

It’s the least I can do, or, at least that’s what I tell myself. It’s a big step up from sleeping on the floor, I know that. Hopefully, they’re grateful for the change, instead of taking advantage of it. I don’t think they would do something like that, though; I knew exactly what it was like, and I would never take any of this for granted. So, hopefully this makes me look like a good person instead of a pushover.

A seamstress and some of her attendants came by shortly after that and measured me from head to toe. It seemed like it was too much, and even though she was explaining what every measurement was for, albeit nervously, but she was just talking way too damn fast for me to pay attention. When she was done she stood straight up and looked me in the eye. I stared back at her, not knowing what she was doing.

She reached up and pinched my cheek in a split second. Hard.

“Ow!”

“Y-You look like your constipated, prince,” she said, giving my reaction a laugh. “Brighten up a bit!” Her blonde hair fell into her eyes a little, and she moved it away with a sweep of her hand as she smiled.

“Kinda hard to that when…” _When you get a kingdom thrusted on your shoulders_ , I wanted to say, but I left that out. I rubbed at my cheek, offended, and gave her a little glare.

“P-Please! You know we’re all loyal to you a-already! You do your part, and we’ll take care of the rest!” she said, the grin on her face almost like she was planning murder, before she smiled so hard her eyes scrunched closed. “Some of your r-robes should be ready by tomorrow! I’ll have them dropped off early in the morning!” she announced, curtsying quickly, before bustling out of the room with her attendants trailing behind her.

I took a minute to breathe and look around my room a little bit. Nothing looked out of place, all nice and orderly and fucking neat as all hell, but then again, what do I know? I haven’t been here for years. My eyes settled on the large window, and I threw it open without a second thought.

The view from the window was very different from the one in Oikawa’s castle. Instead of woods as a perimeter, I saw a high stone wall and, further out, the start of towns. The roofs stuck out sharply against the sky, the clamor barely audible from this distance. It would take a while, but I could get used to the sight again.

I was just thinking about sitting on the sill and wasting time, but the second I moved, there were two knocks on my door and it was swung open.

“Prince Kentarou!” what sounded like two voices mixed together said, and when I turned around, there were two regents standing there. I could tell by the clothes. It made me want to rip them a little, because they looked so fucking expensive. I probably should have told the seamstress to make them comfortable. One regent was Kuroo, the black hair falling into his face stylistically told me that much. The other I vaguely remembered, with his bizarre black-to-white dye job and his sly grin.

“We were wondering whether you would be in your room or not,” Kuroo said, grinning as he stepped into the room without shutting the door behind him. “Your father’s room was empty, so we thought we would look here.”

“And obviously we were correct!” the other said, setting his hands on his hips triumphantly. I was silent, looking at the nameless regent intensely and wondering why I fucking couldn’t put a name to his face. He looked a little uncomfortable with my staring, and Kuroo nudged him to give him a questioning glance. He only shrugged in response. Well, since this is going nowhere…

“I don’t know who you are,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other quickly as I folded my arms across my chest. He seemed to deflate immediately, almost like he was disappointed, before bowing deeply.

“I’m Bokuto Koutarou, your highness,” he said, and when he stood up again, his grin was back on his face.

“Kyoutani’s fine,” I said, wincing at the phrase and looking at the floor.

“You’re going to have to get used to it, Kentarou,” Kuroo said sincerely, looking at me curiously.

“That’s fit for a king,” I said, looking back up at the both of them. “I’m not. No one is calling me that, and that’s final.” So maybe snapping at the people that I would be relying on later isn’t exactly the best course of action, but I wouldn’t take. I’m not higher than anyone here. The two shared a look, mixed with raised eyebrows and miniature shrugs, but when they turned back to me, they were grinning.

“So,” Bokuto said, taking a step closer, “have you managed to continue your training in swordsmanship?” _That’s it?_ It sounded like a stupid question, but he must have a reason for asking; everyone has fucking ulterior motives for everything.

“I didn’t handle a sword until Oikawa bought me from that orphanage,” I said truthfully, “but Iwaizumi’s been teaching me ever since.”

“Ha! Iwaizumi, right?” Bokuto guffawed. “How many times do you find yourself on your ass?”

“Bokuto-”

“Not as often as you think,” I countered, giving him a look.

“Is that a challenge, _Prince_?”

“Sorry, Kyoutani,” Kuroo said, putting a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder and holding him back from crowding into my space more. “We wanted to ask you, _respectfully_ , if you would like to duel with us-”

“We want to measure your skill set because we need a competent king no matter what blood says, especially since-”

“I accept,” I murmured, bowing slightly before looking up and seeing their baffled expressions. I cracked a smile, because they looked _really fucking stupid_ right then and there.

It was only two seconds before Bokuto grabbed me and dragged me to the sparring room. I completely forgot there was one.

We were in there all afternoon, testing each other’s skill and refusing to be the first one to admit that they had enough. Like I was going to let them win, anyways. Their approaches were different from Iwaizumi’s ever-shifting one; Kuroo liked to get straight to the point and take down his opponent in as few strikes as possible, and Bokuto liked distracting his opponent and drawing out the fight for as long as possible before easily taking advantage.

Not very different from the kids in the alleys, honestly.

The both of them were shocked by my unroyal fighting style. I didn’t give a shit about what they thought. They wanted to see what I could do? Fine by me, but I’m not sticking to rules and guidelines when it’s my credibility on the line. I twisted, rolled, and tripped my way through the duels, laughing under my breath at their surprise and their determination.

We fought until the last dredges of sunlight filtered through the high windows in the sparring room, the metal-on-metal clang still grating on our ears, our arms shaking, and our legs weak.

Kuroo and I were dueling when Hinata interrupted.

Kuroo circled me slightly, or tried to, at least, while he batted at my sword. I parried every blow of his, each one’s force rattling up my arm, but the feeling was natural now. Like breathing. It took a second to find an opening where I can start my offensive, and when he took an extra step before swinging, I found it. Hit after hit clanged on Kuroo’s sword, and I could feel his grip get weaker. My eyes flicked from his sword to his feet, guessing, hoping he would do it. And he did. He started to take a step forward, trying to get momentum back on his side again, when I dropped low to the ground, kicked my leg out, and swept his other leg out from under him.

His grunt was accompanied by two resounded “ _OOOOOOOH_ ”s in the sparring room.

I looked over to see Hinata hovering at the door, his eyes wide in amazement and his mouth open as he gawked at the scene before him. Kuroo sat up, and as he grinned at me, I held a hand out to him to help him up. As I pulled him to his feet, Hinata launched himself into talking, like he would die or some shit like that if he didn’t get his words out in the next three seconds.

“Wow Kyoutani! You’re really good! I didn’t know you could fight like that! That looks like a lot of fun! Does it hurt? What happens if someone gets hurt? How long have you been fighting? Training, I mean! Sorry your- _Kyoutani_!” Hinata ended his little rant with a big bow, popping up quickly enough and looking at me in wonder.

“I didn’t know you would be that good!” Bokuto said, appearing at my side and looping an arm around my shoulders. “I’m impressed.”

“I get why Iwaizumi is a pretty even match for you,” Kuroo said, a sense of pride in his voice. “You have an interesting way of fighting that makes it difficult to predict your next movements.”

“That was cool!!” Hinata chimed in. “O-Oh! I almost forgot! Kyoutani!” he chirped, before bowing again. “You’re needed in the dining hall! Dinner can’t start without you!”

We were whisked away to the dining hall shortly after that, Hinata in the lead as we walked. He chattered adamantly about the duel and what he saw, questioning how I knew what to do and when to do it, and I tried explaining to him that there were some things you just… _knew_. Like how I knew that Kuroo and Bokuto were looking at me bizarrely for talking to a servant like they were a normal person even though I was higher than him. Or, at least, that’s what they think. I’m pretty sure they are more fit to be king than I am.

Hinata tried to talk about the rest of the servants’ move to the guest rooms in the castle, and for the first time, I shot him a deadly glare. He shut up immediately, his eyes flying down to his feet on the ground and his shoulders hiking up to his ears, almost like he was expecting to get hit. I understood, and out a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m _not_ going to _hit_ you,” I muttered, trying to sound angry to put on a show for Kuroo and Bokuto, but Hinata wasn’t buying it. Good. “Just don’t talk about it now,” I added, lifting my hand off his shoulders. Hinata beamed up at me, and I gave him a stiff nod in reply.

I forgot how overdone the dining hall was. It put Oikawa’s to shame. The high ceiling was painted elegantly, every window was covered in stained glass, throwing all kinds of colors on the walls as the sunlight faded away. Vases with fresh flowers where set on small tables that lined the walls. The chairs were high-backed, like Oikawa’s, but every single one of these ones looked like gold. Everything set on the table was silver, from the plates to the goblets to the candelabras. Every chair had a regent on it, looking expectantly at me, well, except for three, obviously. Hinata looked at me, to the table, to me again, and opened his mouth to say something.

“ _Don’t_ ,” I said, giving him a look. “Later, okay?” I muttered, and I saw his orange hair bounce as he nodded before I strode over to the table.

I almost expected to see Oikawa heading the table, but both he and Iwaizumi were to the right of the seat, while Shigeru was seated to the left of it. I gulped, and settled into the seat without making a fool of myself. Oikawa beamed at me, while Iwaizumi gave me a smirk. Shigeru glared at me.

_Oh shit. What the fuck did I do now?_

I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, when servants poured into the dining hall, carrying dish after dish and setting them down elegantly onto the table. Seriously, those guys don’t get enough credit- that looked like a fucking art. No one did anything for the longest second until everyone’s cups were filled to the brim with wine.

“ _To the return of Prince Kentarou!_ ” Kuroo announced, lifting his cup in the air and looking around. The rest of the regents mimicked him, their laughs and joyful voices echoing off the high ceiling.

The rest of dinner was full of lively conversation, and devoid of anything from Shigeru. He turned to the regent next to him, a kind looking man whose eyes squinted when he smiled and had slicked-back silver hair. I talked when I needed to, unsure of what to say even when Oikawa dragged me in a conversation and gave me pointed looks. Iwaizumi looked like he was taking notes in the back of his mind, although he continued to grin like nothing was wrong.

Dinner was unsettling, to say the least. Especially Shigeru. What the fuck did I _do_?

Everyone was dismissed shortly after dessert was served (which was some sort of pastry that was sweet enough to make your teeth rot in an instant; I nearly choked when I bit into it). The regents were ushered out of the castle, and probably back out to their carriages to go back to where they belonged. (Kuroo and Bokuto slapped me on the back, grinning widely, and said they would be back soon to duel again, and Iwaizumi gave the three of us an impressed look, like he didn’t expect me to take their challenge in the first place.)

Hinata showed up at the dining hall door moments later, rocking on his heel with a wide grin on his face. Oikawa noticed.

“That boy’s taken a liking to you, you know,” he noted, giving him a level look. The orange-headed boy shrunk back a little, but his smile didn’t disappear completely.

“I think he knows I’m different from the other king,” I admitted, glancing down at my feet before Iwaizumi tapped on my chin.

“You just admitted that you’re going to be king, if you like it or not,” he said, the resolve behind his eyes evident, “so you have to work on all those nervous tendencies you have and break them; your regents will take any sign of weakness as an opportunity to roll all over you.”

“I’ll work on it,” I replied, nodding.

“Yahaba, what’s wrong?” Oikawa asked, noticing Shigeru hasn’t said anything since everyone filed out. He had his hands resting on his hips and he was acting like he was aimlessly looking around the dining hall.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied flippantly, “I’m just taking it all in. It’s been forever since we’ve been in here.” There was something about his voice that pissed me off, and I realized it was the voice from what felt like ages ago; the same voice he used to talk to me when I met him for the first time, the one that sounded like he had something he wanted to say stuck at the back of his throat and he wouldn’t cough it up.

“We have all the time in the world to take it all in,” Oikawa chuckled, encircling Shigeru’s shoulders with one of his arms. He cringed at the affection, before turning and grinning at Oikawa.

“You’re so annoying,” Shigeru huffed, ducking out from under his arm a second later.

“Ah… Kyoutani?” Hinata spoke up, stepping into the dining hall and looking up at me.

“ _Kyoutani?_ ” Iwaizumi asked, confused.

“The whole ‘ _your highness_ ’ crap sounded too stuffy,” I explained, waving his concern off. “Yeah?” I asked as I turned back to Hinata.

“The seamstress sent a set of pajamas over to your room, so you can get ready for bed, and… and I was told to make sure you sleep enough tonight because… apparently there’s a lot to be done and none of us want you… uh, overworked,” he explained, his eyes flicking nervously to Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Shigeru as he spoke.

“Right,” I said, flashing him a smile that I hoped wouldn’t be too creepy, before turning back to the three of them. “Well, I guess I’m going back to my room, then.”

“Good night!” Oikawa said cheerfully, lurching forward and crushing me into a hug before I could move a muscle. “We have a lot to discuss tomorrow, I hope you know that,” he whispered in my ear, before letting me go. I knew he was talking about how Hinata regarded me… and why the servants were so worried about me.

_Oh shit_.

“U-uh, yeah, night,” I said, nodding and making my way out of the hall. Hinata didn’t accompany all the way to my room, but he did lead me over to the stairs and talked adamantly about how scary Oikawa was and why everyone else thought that too. I told him he wasn’t all that bad and ruffled his hair before bidding him good night and heading up to my room.

As mentioned, a pair of pajamas were laying neatly on my bed when I entered my room. And- _fucking hell, thanks the fucking gods_ \- they were just as soft, maybe even _softer_ , than the clothes I wore before meeting Oikawa. I crawled into them, throwing my current clothes to the floor with a huff, before sighing. The cotton felt good on my skin, and it was made for me. I was going to have to find that seamstress and thank her. _Fucking hell_.

A gust of wind found its way into my room, and I realized that I left the window open this whole time. I wandered towards it, looking up at the sliver of the moon that was high in the sky and the stars that shone around it. I settled myself down on the windowsill and looked around some more. Taking it all in.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but I know that one moment it was silent, and the next my door was banging open and slamming shut in the span of two seconds. I slid inside my room and sprang to my feet, hands curled into fists, before I realized it was Shigeru.

“What the _fuck_? You scared the crap outta-”

“Head Advisor, Kentarou?” he seethed, crossing the room in three strides. “Head-fucking-Advisor!?” He grabbed the front of my pajamas and shook me. His eyes glowed with confusion and anger.

“Well, _yeah_! Let me go!” I spat back, my hands going to his wrists and trying to get him of me.

“Why the hell would you do something as stupid as that!?” Shigeru shouted letting me go with a shove.

“Stupid as _what_?”

“ _As appointing me as Head Advisor?!_ ”

“That was probably the best decision I will make in all my reign, what the hell are you talking about!?” I asked, glaring at him as his hands twitched at his sides.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, huffing slightly. “You’re so insane you don’t even see how you’re insane.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t think you were serious!” he shouted, throwing his hands up and sitting on the edge of my bed. “I’m barely qualified for this! There’s no way we are going to be able to get this kingdom back in order, not when I’m your Head Advisor. I’ve lived under Oikawa’s wing all my life, there’s no way I can make good decisions based on people who have it a million times worse than me!” As he ranted and gestured widely with his hands, I walked over to him slowly, grabbed his wrists as his last words died on his lips, and sat down next to him. His eyes met mine, still slightly stormy and questioning, but I held down my grin.

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“If _you_ think all that,” I said, tightening my grip on his wrists, “what the hell makes you think _I’m_ qualified to be king?” The iron behind his eyes melted into something a little more understanding, so I went on. “I’m not ready to be king. I have no right to be the head of all these people who have it all when I just came back from having nothing. I don’t have the right to live in this palace again, or have servants, or have what I say become law. But I’m here.”

“You were born into this, though,” Shigeru said, trying to sound reasonable, and I dropped his wrists. “This was your home. I’m not the one who-”

“You’re smart,” I blurted, giving him a look, “and you’re probably more sensible and sensitive than all those other assholes that I have the pleasure of calling my court. You deserve this spot more than I deserve mine.”

 I barely got the words out when he kissed me, his lips latching on to mine like he was starving, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me close. I let out a noise, something between a yelp and a moan that I should probably be ashamed of, and settled my hands on his hips. He was already licking at my bottom lip when I tried to move us away from the edge of the bed, pushing his hips farther onto the mattress so we wouldn’t fall from the fucking thing. What a moodkiller _that_ would be.

The kiss was passionate, apologetic, close, everything I wouldn’t have guessed to come from Shigeru the day I saw him again. I love it. I loved _him_.

He shuffled into my lap, sitting down on my thighs as he weaved his fingers through my hair as best he could. He delved his tongue into my mouth, and I met it with mine eagerly. I pulled away from him a second later moving down and kissing at his jaw, and then lower at his neck. He whined when I laughed breathlessly against his neck.

“At least like this we can have more time together when you’re ‘advising’ me,” I said, and he laughed at the thought, too. He slides off me, and I realize he’s been in his pajamas this whole time, too. The seamstress must have had fun with him. He presses a kiss to my cheek as he settles back on my bed, sitting on his knees.

“Might become a little difficult when you marry, though,” he mutters, his smile soft.

“Who said anything about getting married?” I tested, raising my eyebrow at him. He sighed, and slid off the edge of the bed to shuffle under the thick covers. I followed suit.

“Your regents might require you to, if a conflict arises with another kingdom,” he said softly. “Plus, you need an heir to the throne. I can’t give you that, if you haven’t noticed.” He chuckled humorlessly and I curled towards him, draping one of my arms over his side.

“I won’t get married to someone I don’t love,” I said, meaning it. “No matter what happens with other kingdoms either. I’ll go to war myself if it came down to that or marriage.”

“Even so, you still need an heir,” he said, pressing a kiss to my nose.

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, pulling him closer to me, “there’s always kids who need homes in the orphanages.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! thank you so much for reading guys! it makes me really happy!   
> OKAY OKAY OKAY. so, that ending right? Yes? WELL. i have an idea, which means i can continue this and have, like, a sister fic for this AU, BUT only if you guys are interested in reading! so please comment and tell me what you think!!   
> AGAIN thank you so much for reading!! i hope everything goes your way today and that you're happy!!  
> Love you!  
> -HB


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